


Life's Shadow

by GeneticEnd



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: AU, Death, Frerard, High School, M/M, POV Alternating, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 46,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1788544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneticEnd/pseuds/GeneticEnd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frank meets Gerard in a dingy old building, he'd thought nothing of it. Loads of troubled teenagers liked to hang around in creepy structures, right? </p><p>Wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea when the kids I were babysitting wanted to watch a Ghost Hunters show, and I thought why not try making it a Frerard? 
> 
> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

“Oh my God, did you hear that?” Hear what? Gerard hadn’t made any sort of sound; Gerard hadn’t even taken a _breath_ for Christ’s sake. Well, nothing had changed there then. Three men were creeping around the building, _Gerard’s_ building. Okay, so technically it wasn’t really _his_ building, but he’d been here long enough and no one else had burst in screaming glory, trying to take it from him, so he had come to the decision that this place was his now. He'd been here long enough after all. It was years old, dirty, the walls spread with grime and god knows what else (you could probably catch a disease just by sending the place a glance) but it was where he spent all his time, so it was his.

 Two of the men were holding out their EMF Meters, which were ‘assured’ to detect paranormal presence, but really it was all bullshit. The men had had the devices pointing at a damp corner in the wall for the past five minutes, getting excited over their revelations that there was a ghostly presence in that spot. But there wasn’t. It was only Gerard here and the damp in the corner certainly had nothing undead about it, not that it had ever been alive.

The third man had been lugged with the camera, following the other two around, ooh-ing and ah-ing whenever one of the guy’s devices beeped or he caught an orb on the camera. But those ‘orbs’ were nothing but a trick of the camera lens. It was only Gerard here. Only Gerard. And it had been that way for years so why on earth would anything change now?

“Did you hear that? We’ve got movement over here!” The tall buff guy balancing the camera cried, pointing towards one of the archways in the complete opposite direction of Gerard. Gerard rolled his eyes heavily and slumped down on the wall he was sat on, really wishing he had one of his comic books with him to pass the time. Fuck, he hadn’t read a Doom Patrol comic in a long fucking time.

The wall was fairly high up so he had a good height advantage over the three men and was out of their view. They were clearly filming for some Ghost Hunters show. That may have been a show that Gerard would have been open minded about, but now he vowed he would boycott the programme if he ever got the chance to sit in front of a TV screen again. These people were just overacting on _everything_ , ending up just being annoying.

“They’re coming right at us!” Oh, this was getting pathetic now. Gerard had had enough. He was usually happy when people wandered into the building out of curiosity, he could listen to their conversations, find out a little about their lives, but not when they were fame leeches like this. Gerard closed his eyes and concentrated hard. As cliché as it may be he could interfere with the electrical impulses. He didn’t know the logistics behind it; he hadn’t been able to do it for long, but he had decided that it was a pretty cool party trick, and pretty handy too. Just on cue, the three men’s devices died, the camera going dead and their torches dimming until there was no light at all. “Shit.” The cameraman cursed, shaking the heavy gadget violently before giving up, accepting its fate. “Well what are we supposed to do now, we’ve got almost fuck all footage and nothing to go on.”

 _Leave,_ Gerard begged silently, _that’s what you're going to do, leave._

 

“Shit man, I guess…I guess we could just take the film we’ve got and try and manipulate it a little more or something?”

 

“Fuck! We can’t manipulate something we _don’t have_.” The shorter of the men snapped, kicking the wall with the ‘paranormal’ damp in frustration.

 

“Jack, don’t worry man, there’s supposed to be a deserted church not too far from here, we can check it out tomorrow, shoot some scenes there and merge it together with this one. No one will have to know, chill.” Gerard could hear the angry short man inhale a few deep breaths before sighing.

 

“Yeah…yeah okay, you’re right. Let’s go then, this place is boring as hell.”

 

***

 

It was too hot to be walking around outside, but according to his mom it was too nice to be inside either. He really couldn’t win. His almost completely black get up had been a bad idea today. His legs were turning into jelly in his black jeans and his back was slowly becoming slick with sweat, the moisture seeping through his Misfits shirt. He couldn’t stay out here much longer without ending up a puddle of flesh and the colour black. He hadn’t been walking to anywhere in particular so he didn’t have anywhere to be, which was why he didn’t spare a second thought about venturing into the shabby looking building up ahead on his right. It was almost completely veiled in vines and dirt, any paint job having been decomposed along with any sign of life. It was old and decaying, not much of a looker, but then again Frank didn’t think he was either, which was why he felt such a sudden interest towards it. Not wasting any time in the unnatural heat, he quick-stepped it over to the eerie structure, keeping his head down so as not to draw any attention to himself.

He’d seen this building before, out of the corner of his eye when making his way over to Pete’s house, but he had never really _looked_ at it. He hadn’t really needed to. He’d heard enough rumours about the place; hauntings, strange going’s on, creepy sightings, but to be quite honest Frank had seen fuck all actually happen around the place. He didn’t _not_ believe in all that stuff; he’d always had some part of him that wished for it to be true, but he’d never actually witnessed anything for himself so he'd had to be a little skeptical.

Surprisingly there was still a door on the place. After all the drunken teenage break-ins he thought it would be at least on it’s last hinges. Of course the door was corroded and peeling and covered in unreadable graffiti, but it was still standing, and that was something to be impressed about. Not surprisingly it was unlocked. The amount of people that had barged their way through or unpicked the lock had probably worn away any sense of security it held. Well, that only meant less work for Frank so who was he to complain?

The inside wasn’t much better. It was dingier, darker and damper. There were some questionable stains on the walls, but Frank didn’t want to get closer to try and identify any of them. It was much cooler in the building, which was what Frank had been betting on. He groaned in pleasure out loud at the cool air on his sweltering skin, lifting up his shirt and wafting it to circulate the chill.

“Oh my God that feels good…” he sighed, closing his eyes in pleasure. There was a shuffling sound to Frank’s left, down from where the room branched off to a hallway. Frank paused in flapping his clothing about, opening his eyes and turning his attention to the corridor where the sound had emanated from. Did he really want to go down there and check it out? With the rumours about this place the smart thing to do would be to get the hell out of there before some evil spirits came and possessed his short stature. But Frank wasn’t even sure he believed in all that stuff. Well, this could be his opportunity to get proof.

He turned the corner where it seemed to get even darker, a pungent smell filling his nostrils too. He wrinkled his nose but carried on through the hallway, coming to stop when he saw a figure hunched by the wall, their knees pulled up to their chest, head down.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” Frank apologised, though why he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like he’d wondered into this stranger’s home. The building was empty, belonged to no one. “You hiding from the sun too?” Frank laughed, trying to ease some of the awkwardness when the figure hadn’t moved. Frank stepped closer, becoming slightly irked that he was getting ignored so bluntly. “Uh, hello?” The stranger suddenly jerked his head up as if only just realising that Frank was here. The guy was fairly young, maybe only a year or so older than Frank. He had rather long hair, black, slightly greasy by the looks of it too. He was dressed in jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and, was he wearing _eyeliner?_ Who was this dude?

 

“Huh? Me?” The guy looked surprised, his eyes wide and wary.

 

“Do you see anyone else hiding away in this creepy place?” Frank grinned, lightening up a little knowing that this stranger hadn’t been ignoring him but instead just really hadn’t noticed he was there.

 

“No!” the guy replied, a little too quickly. He seemed really on edge now that Frank looked at him. Frank should probably do the reasonable thing and back off, but this stranger seemed interesting. Well, he had to be interesting if he felt comfortable sitting around in this place even after hearing all the rumours. 

 

“Okay, I wasn’t interrogating you or anything.” Frank gave the guy a lopsided smiled, cocking his head to the side.

 

“Okay…right.” He moved his head away again, looking down at his knees. He didn’t seem sad exactly, just…deep in thought. Frank probably should have left him alone, hell, the guy probably wanted to be left alone, but he’d caught Frank’s interest now, and besides, it’s not like Frank had anything better to do. With this in mind Frank slid down beside the mysterious guy, hitching up a single knee to rest his arm on.

 

“Frank.” Frank nodded to the guy, who didn’t turn his head to meet Frank again. After a few moments of silence passed and the guy hadn’t replied to Frank with his own name, Frank decided he should ask for it. “Do I have to try and guess yours?”

 

“What?”

 

“Your name!” Jeez, this guy was kind of a loser. He turned his head to say it but avoided Frank’s eye.

 

“Oh, right, uh, Gerard.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Gerard didn’t know what to do. He’d never had someone come in here in the daytime (not voluntarily anyway), let alone begin _talking_ to him. He hadn’t had time to hide himself away as he really hadn’t been expecting anyone in here. What was even worse was that he _recognised_ the guy. And when he found out his name was Frank he realised he not only recognised the guy, but he _knew_ the guy. He couldn’t let this guy realise that he knew Gerard too. He’d either kept his head down or hidden behind his hair for the majority of the small talk being made, but the kid just didn’t seem to get the hint to just leave already.

 “So, Gerard, what brings you here?” He watched Frank stretch out his arms above him before resting them behind his head. It looked like he was making himself comfortable, which meant he intended on staying a little longer, which wasn’t good. Gerard shifted uncomfortably, and he wasn’t sure whether this Frank kid could detect this or not. Gerard decided not to answer. Maybe the uncomfortable silence would make him leave sooner. Apparently Frank didn’t get the hints Gerard was trying to make, or he did but was just an asshole, as he acted like Gerard just hadn’t heard him and decided to repeat the question. “What brings you here?” Gerard didn’t want to ignore him straight up. He didn’t want to be seen as a jerk, but he didn’t really have much choice. He turned his head to the kid, peering at him through his hair before looking back down at his knees, pointedly ignoring the boy. Gerard could feel the kid’s stare on him, probably with his eyes wide in shock at the blatant rudeness. Eventually the boy got up and left, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and dipping his head low so that his bangs hid his eyes. And then he was gone. Frank was gone. Gerard could be alone again.

***

Gerard was an asshole. Did he think he was better than Frank or something? He’d only been trying to make polite conversation with the guy, but he’d been so brazenly ignored instead. Even Frank wasn't that rude. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Gerard for the rest of the day, the guy still plaguing his mind when he went over to Pete’s for their weekly pizza night. He’d just been picking at the same slice for over 10 minutes, a small frown on his face.

 “Dude, if you’re not gonna eat it then hand it over.” Pete waved a hand in front of Frank’s face, trying to gain his attention. Frank felt a little bad at forcing Pete to give up half his pepperoni topping for vegetables when Frank didn’t even end up eating it but if Pete was going to eat it then no one was losing really.

“Sorry” Frank muttered, handing over the slice to Pete whose eyes lit up as he took a huge bite out of it.

“What you thinking so hard about?” but he asked it around a mouthful of pizza so it came out as “Whad dyou finkin but?” But Frank had known Pete for years and had had countless conversations where Pete'd had pizza in his mouth, so this was like Frank’s second language, almost.

“Nothing, nothing…do you know a Gerard?” Pete would be his best bet at getting information on anyone; Pete knew something about everyone, which was strange because he’d lived in this town for less time than Frank had.

“Gerard who?” he frowned, swallowing his mouthful before taking another.

“I –I don’t know. Just Gerard.” The guy had barely wanted to give Frank his first name; he doubted he would have given up his last name to him.

“Nope, don’t know him. Why?”

“I went into that building, you know the creepy one we always pass on the way here?”

“What?!” Pete cried, throwing the pizza down and jumping at Frank, climbing all over him. “Did you not hear the rumours about that place?” Pete had Frank pinned on his back, Frank’s hips barred in by Pete’s legs. Pete was a guy who had no sense of personal space, his own or others. Another thing Frank had become accustomed to.

“Exactly, they’re just rumours, Pete.” Frank sighed, struggling to escape from Pete’s Straddle of Death.

“Dude! What if, what if this _Gerard_ was a ghost?!”

“Shut up! He was not!” No, he was just your regular arrogant jerk that liked to hang around in creepy buildings. “Come on Pete, get up, you’re hurting my hips.” Frank whined, wriggling beneath him.

“Maybe if you weren’t so sickly.” Pete grinned, leaning down and giving Frank a quick peck on the cheek before climbing off him. “You have to go back and see the guy.”

“What? No way.” Frank wrinkled up his nose at the thought of trying to force out more small talk with Gerard. Gerard had just been rude.

“Yes! You have to find out whether he’s dead or not!” Pete tried to make a scary face, flapping his arms about ghoulishly but only succeeding in making Frank laugh. “But seriously, a guy who hangs around in a haunted building? He’s gotta be interesting, you’ve gotta go back!”

“It’s not haunted.” Frank sighed, but Pete had a point. What had Gerard been doing there? If not to get out of the heat, then why?

“Frank! The Ghost Hunters crew were around there the other night filming some stuff!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man!”

*

Frank wasn’t sure what he was doing when he was making his way towards the creepy building again the next day. He didn’t even know if Gerard would be there. He hadn’t told Pete he was going. He hadn’t told anybody. He tried to shake it off as it being too hot again but it had started to rain on his way over there, so that excuse had become void. To be quite honest he had no idea why he wanted to see Gerard again. Gerard had been cold and rude, not exactly an invitation asking Frank to come and find him again, but then to be fair Frank didn't usually care whether he got an invitation or not. By the time Frank entered the shelter of the building he was drenched. His hair was sticking to his face; his clothes were dripping and his shoes squelched with every step he took. It had been a stupid idea not to bring a coat; Frank was prone to catching colds and chest infections. He was shivering as he closed the door behind him, swearing under his breath as he pushed his bangs out of his eyes.

Wringing out his shirt, he made his way down the corridor where Gerard had been sat yesterday. He wasn’t there. Frank supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised about that. He’d probably seen the rain and decided not to come out today. Or, the more likely one, going to creepy buildings wasn’t a usual pastime for him. Sighing, Frank slumped against one of the walls, trying his hardest to keep his body temperature above freezing.

“Are you wet?” Frank jumped at the voice, turning his head towards the direction it came from. Gerard was looking at Frank from behind a lone wall, his head the only thing visible from where Frank was standing. 

“Um, what?”

“Wet? You’re wet?” Frank looked down at himself, thinking it was quite obvious that he was.

“Well yeah, it is raining you know.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, I guess you just made it here before it started.” Frank shrugged simply, just happy that he’d already managed to get more words out of the guy than yesterday.

“Oh…right...” Gerard looked down at the ground before slowly stepping out from behind the wall before walking over to Frank, only stopping a few inches from him. He wasn’t sure what to do when Gerard’s arm began snaking out towards him, and was even more confused when Gerard’s hand reached Frank’s hair, his fingers running through the waterlogged fringe. Frank froze, just staring at Gerard who looked almost mesmerised by what he was currently doing.

“Er…” Gerard continued to trail his fingers through Frank’s hair until he caught Frank’s eye, yanking his hand away quickly and averting his gaze.

“Sorry…” he mumbled, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Frank didn’t really know what to think. Before Gerard hadn’t even wanted to say a word to Frank and now he was invading his personal space. “Is it raining now?”

“Uh, yeah…I mean I think so…” Frank shrugged, still a little shocked from Gerard’s actions.

“Really?” Gerard’s eyes lit up with excitement and Frank didn’t really know what to think about the guy anymore.

“Yeah…you like rain that much huh?” Gerard’s eyes widened before looking down at the ground, and he shrugged uncomfortably.

“You came back?” Gerard began scuffing his converse along the floor, shoving his hands in his jean pockets, possibly to keep them from practically groping Frank again.

“Well so did you.” Gerard frowned at that, leaning back a little bit.

“I’m always here.” He frowned at Frank before widening his eyes again, almost in horror, and began babbling. “I – I mean…I just hang around here a lot, you know?” Frank didn’t know seeing this was only his second time coming here, but he nodded as if he did.

“How come? I mean, haven’t you heard the rumours about this place?”

“You mean that it’s haunted? Yeah, but none of those are true, you know?” And then the smallest smile appeared on his face, flashing Frank a set of small teeth. “Besides, they can’t be that bad anyway if they didn’t stop you coming.” And this time it was Frank’s turn to smile.

“I’ve got balls of steel.” He grinned. “They’ve got to be pretty bad to scare me.” Gerard folded his arms across his chest and leant back against the wall, narrowing his eyes at Frank slightly.

“So why did you come back?” Frank couldn’t tell him the truth, that he really came back to see Gerard, because he didn’t even _know_ Gerard and it would make him seem pretty weird, and this was keeping in mind that Gerard had just had a nice feel up of Frank's hair. 

“The place is interesting…I’ve never been in here before, not since yesterday anyway and I don’t know…it just…fascinates me I guess.” Frank shrugged it off as if it was no big deal but Gerard had a softer smile on now, looking down to the ground. “How long have you been coming here for then? It sounds like a while.”

“Yeah, a while…” he sighed, kind of avoiding the questions before looking up at Frank through his hair. “Are you cold?” he asked, cocking his head to the side having noticed Frank shiver a couple of times. He didn’t even wait for a reply from Frank before he was shrugging off his own blazer he had been wearing, handing it over to Frank.

“What – er – no, don’t worry about it, I’m fine.” Frank shook his head, water droplets flying off as he did so.

“Frank,” and that was the first time that Gerard had spoken Frank’s name out loud, and for some reason it had an affect on Frank that he didn’t get when anyone else ever said his name. It was strange. “You’re drenched through and it’s like 4 degrees in here or something, put it on, you’ll get hypothermia or some shit.” Frank thought that maybe Gerard was overreacting a little, but he took the blazer anyway, muttering a ‘thanks’ before sliding it on over his shoulders. It didn’t smell great. In fact, it smelt awful, like it hadn’t been washed in years, but Frank didn’t want to be downright rude to the guy after he’d just given him his jacket, so he shut up. “You should probably go. My jacket will only keep your temperature from dropping anymore, it won’t warm you up again.”

“Um, yeah…but what about your jacket?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Gerard shrugged before turning away and disappearing down another turning, leaving Frank by himself to leave.

***

Gerard wasn’t supposed to talk to him; he knew he wasn’t. But he’d just been so surprised that Frank had actually come back, even after being so rude to the guy. He’d mentally kicked himself for practically fondling him like that though. It was just that he hadn’t left the building in so long that he’d forgotten what rain felt like, what water felt like. He’d forgotten if he could still feel it at all. So when Frank had come in soaked through to the bone, his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he’d forgotten what he was supposed to be doing, that he was supposed to be _avoiding_ him. But then he’d started talking to the guy, and he seemed nice. Gerard just couldn’t help himself.

He’d been worrying about the boy recognising him, but he'd seemed oblivious. Then again, it had been 3 years and Frank would’ve seen a lot more fresh faces since then. Gerard hadn’t really had a chance to. Frank seemed interesting, more interesting than the usual people that came in here. The drunken teenagers, the Ghost Hunters, the people running in after their dogs that had wondered off.

He hadn’t been expecting Frank to come back the next day, especially not after the hair incident, so he was surprised when his voice interrupted his train of thought.

“I brought your jacket back.” A voice came from down the corridor where Frank was standing with Gerard’s blazer slung over his arm, an easy smile on his lips.

“You…you didn’t have to.” Frank walked up to him, dropping the jacket in Gerard’s lap before sitting down next to him. His blazer smelt different. Frank had washed it. Gerard hid his smile behind his hair as he pulled on the blazer.

“Don’t worry about it. I was coming this direction anyway.” Gerard nodded as Frank pulled up his backpack beside him, resting his arm on it.

“Is that an X-men comic?” Gerard caught sight of the corner of the comic sticking out of Frank’s bag. “ _Dude!_ Is that one of the _Uncanny X-men issues?”_ Gerard completely forgot about how he barely knew the guy and was climbing all over Frank before he knew it, grabbing his bag. He paused for a split second to remember some manners, shying up at Frank through his hair. “Can I?”

“Sure, go for it.” Gerard smiled brightly, unzipping the bag and puling out the comic, cradling it in his lap as if it was a small puppy. It had been so long since he’d even touched a comic and the fact that Frank just happened to have a X-men edition was brilliant. “It’s not even mine. My friend works in a, er, comic book store, and he lends me them sometimes.” Was Frank trying to say that he had unlimited access to free comic books anytime he wanted? Gerard had never been so jealous.

“Oh man, the X-men series are some of my favourites.” Gerard marvelled, slowly opening the book and reading through. It was even better than he remembered; the vibrant colours, the drawings of each characters, it all seemed surreal to him now.

“So you’re a bit of a comic nerd then?”

“I’m a _big_ comic nerd.” Gerard grinned at Frank, a big wide smile. Frank laughed and stretched out his legs in front of him.

“So what comics do you have?” Gerard lost his smile at that, just staring down at the colourful pages with wide eyes.

“I don’t have any…” his voice came out much sadder than he would have liked.

“Oh.”

“But I used to.” Gerard perked up, remembering the large stacks he used to own that took up so much space in his room that he’d ended up having to rent his brother’s space. Seriously, his brother had made him pay to store comics in his room even though Gerard knew he didn’t really mind because he’d end up reading them too anyway. “I used to have hundreds of them. My favourites were always X-men or Doom Patrol, oh, or the Preacher!” He cried beginning to get excited.

“So how come you don’t have them anymore? You seem to really love them.”

“Yeah, uh, I guess we just…we just had to make more room…or something…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On point for updating the next day, eh?
> 
> Not sure how to feel about this chapter, I don't think it's written as well as the last but yeah. Try to enjoy it anyway!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Gerard had seemed really sad when he’d admitted to Frank that he didn’t have any comics anymore, and Frank felt guilty when he’d had to take the X-men away, but he was going to make it up to Gerard, which was why he was at the comic book store right now. Ray was currently serving another customer so Frank waited over by one of the stands full of the Batman comics. He wasn’t really sure what to get for Gerard, so he needed Ray’s help. Frank didn’t actually know all that much about comics. It had just been luck that he’d been carrying that X-Men comic to give back to Ray or else he would have never discovered Gerard’s love for them.

“Frank!” Ray called him over as his customer left with a bag full of comics, looking very pleased with his buy. “Come back for another filling of X-Men?” he grinned, leaning under the counter to presumably pull out one he’d put aside for Frank again.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could get some for…” could he call Gerard a friend yet? They’d had few short conversations but Frank had enjoyed them. And he must’ve counted Gerard as a friend seeing as he was going through all this just to give the guy a couple of comics to read. “A friend.” Frank settled upon, resting his elbows on the counter, staring up at Ray with large eyes.

“A…friend?” he asked, slightly dubious.

“Yeah. It’s just this guy I met recently and he loves comics but doesn’t have any around to read for himself, so I figured, who’s the nicest person I know that has unrestricted access to comic books?” Ray laughed and shook his head, his fro bouncing slightly as he did.

“Well what sort of comics is he into?” Ray asked, walking around the front of the desk and towards a stand at the back of the store.

“Uh, he mentioned X-men and Doom Patrol...and another one I cant remember.” Frank was useless when it came to recalling pieces of information, no matter how small they were or how long ago he received them.

“Aw dude! Doom Patrol’s an epic series!” Ray smiled enthusiastically in agreement. “Usually I’d say no, but seeing as you’ve not had a crush like this for a while, then why not?” Ray shrugged happily, pulling off a couple of comics from the shelves.

“Thanks Ray, I wasn’t sure how – wait a second…what did you just say?” Frank frowned, standing up straight and just leaning one hand on the countertop.   

“You heard.” Ray waggled his brows suggestively.

“No! No – he’s just a friend I don’t have a – have a… _crush_ , seriously Ray, who even uses that word anymore?”

“Whatever man, I’m just saying.”

“Well don’t.” Frank huffed, unable to meet Ray’s eye anymore. He didn’t like Gerard like that. Besides, he’d only known the guy for a week and hell, he didn’t even know if Gerard was even his friend. Frank had visited Gerard three more times since discovering his love for comic books, and he hadn't been in the talking mood every time Frank had been, and most times Frank had just ended up being ignored by Gerard, but he hadn’t minded, because he’d just appreciated his company. It was different to when he hung around with his other friends. _Gerard_ was different.

Ray had picked out three Doom Patrol comics to start off with, handing them over to Frank who was still slightly moody from Ray’s harmless accusations, but he dropped his foul mood as soon as he imagined what Gerard’s reaction would be to the comic books. Gerard would have to be psyched about it. Sure, it probably seemed pretty strange that Frank was this excited about the reaction of a guy he'd only known a week, but right now he couldn't care. Frank pretty much sprinted to the dreary building Gerard liked to hang out in as soon as he pictured his reaction to the comics.

He practically fell in through the door, threatening to finally tug it off its rusty hinges, but it still remained strong. Being careful not to drop the comics, he sprinted through the large room that the door opened into, darting around the corner to find Gerard. Frank found him sat in his usual spot, sliding his feet slowly along the gravelly ground, back and forth, back and forth.

“Hi Frank.” Gerard greeted him without even looking up. Tiptoeing through this place would still probably echo loud enough to alert as a warning. His voice didn’t raise an octave like it usually did when he was happy to see Frank, which meant that he was in a bad mood today. Frank slowed his pace and walked up to Gerard, standing in front of him, tapping the end of Gerard’s sneakers with his own. Gerard didn’t react at first, clearly hoping that Frank would get that Gerard was in the ignoring mood today and didn’t want to talk, but Frank persisted. He put a little more force behind his nudges until they were close to kicks and Gerard snapped his head up, almost _growling_ at Frank as a final warning. “What?” he forced out through gritted teeth, glaring at Frank. Frank just smiled back, swinging the bag with the comics in lightly, drawing attention to it. “What’s in there?” Gerard raised a brow, nodding towards the bag. Frank grinned, holding out the bag to Gerard who took it, slightly confused. As soon as he opened the bag, looking into it, his eyes lit up, diminishing any anger that had been behind them before. “What…is…are these…for me?”

“Yeah!” Frank cried, practically vibrating with excitement. “Well, they're for you to _borrow_. I’ve got to take them back at some point but then I can just exchange them to get you some different ones.” He shrugged, playing it off as no big deal.

“Frankie…I…” and now it was Frank’s turn to stare in awe. _Frankie?_ No one had ever called him that. He had always just been known as ‘Frank’, or ‘Iero’ when he was being challenged or told off. But never Frankie. ‘Frankie’ felt a lot more personal than he was used to. He wasn’t sure what to think. “This is…this is really nice of you Frankie.”  

Frank felt something drop into the pit of his stomach as Gerard called him ‘Frankie’ once more. His heart maybe.

“How did you get them?” Gerard admired the comics, sliding his finger along the pages as if they were so delicate.

“My friend I told you about that works in the comic book store in town, well, he’s there so much he practically owns it. He was happy to let me lend you some when he found out how much of a comic freak you were.” Frank smiled, bumping his shoulder with Gerard’s playfully.

“Thank you, really.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Frank shrugged again; acting as if he wasn’t bothered whatsoever, but really he was ecstatic that Gerard was so happy. He'd do it again and again any time. "So are they any good? I mean, I’ve never read any of the Doom Patrol series so I don’t know, but Ray seemed to know what he was talk–“ Frank stopped mid sentence. “What?” Gerard was just staring at Frank, silently, his eyes wide. “What?” he repeated, an agitated edge to his voice.

“You’ve never read Doom Patrol?” Frank’s silence gave Gerard his answer. “What! Oh my God!”

“I’m not as into all the comic book stuff as you are! The only reason I’ve read any is because of Ray really…”

“Okay, then what _are_ you into?” and he seemed genuinely interested when he asked the question.

“I guess I’m a bit of a horror movie nerd.” He began, “You know, like The _Texas Chainsaw Massacre, City Of The Living Dead, Evil Dead_ …oh and _Halloween_ has got to be one of my favourites!” Frank stopped fangirling over his horror movie list long enough to find Gerard still giving him that previous look. “What now?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Gerard shook his head, his hair flipping wildly. “It’s just, uh, you’re…you’re pretty cool.” Was Gerard _blushing?_ Frank didn’t really think of himself as ‘cool’. In school he was mostly ignored, but that was good because it meant he wasn't a target for anyone. But to be honest, even if he was, Frank was perfectly capable at defending himself. He’d dodged punches before and wasn’t a stranger to throwing them either. His height (or lack of) gave him an advantage and he was quick on his feet. No, if anything Frank was known as the short guy with the short fuse that people just usually avoided, not cool.

“I think the excitement from those comic books has gone straight to your head.”

“Shut up.” Gerard turned his head away, hiding behind his hair. “I like _Night Of The Living Dead_ …Romero’s stuff…Wes Craven…” He mumbled, tangling his fingers in his hair.

“ _Dude!_ _Nightmare On Elm Street_ was always a classic.” Frank nods appreciatively, glad to find out he had more in common with Gerard than he first thought. He wasn’t sure whether it was this new revelation or he was just still on a high from Gerard’s reaction to the comic books, but either way, the question left Frank’s mouth suddenly. “There’s a, uh, screening of, uh, _Dawn Of The Dead_ on next week. Um, would you maybe wanna go and see it with me?” He was originally going to ask Pete but Pete wasn’t into all the horror movie stuff as much as Gerard seemed to be. Besides, he was beginning to really like Gerard. With Halloween the following week, all the scary movies were being put on show, which was great, not only because Frank loved horror movies, but also because it was around his birthday, which meant he was never out of ideas. If there were no movies showing then Frank could just dress up as a zombie and scare the shit out of some people, and no one could call the cops on him for it. It was brilliant.

“Oh…er…I don’t…know…” Gerard murmured, folding in on himself a little. Frank immediately felt his chest tighten and turned his head away quickly.

“No it’s fine.” Frank said quickly. “I get it. Completely.”

“No, it’s not what you think, it’s just…” Frank looked back to Gerard as he sighed heavily before looking up at Frank and smiling softly. “Yeah. Yeah I’d like to go. That sounds great.”

***

Gerard didn’t know what he was saying before he’d already said it. It was just that Frank had looked so crushed when he’d said no at first, and he really did want to go. So he panicked and said what Frank wanted to hear and what Gerard wished he could mean. But he’d never left this building since. He’d tried of course, but he’d just ended up panicking and running back inside where no one could see him. What if someone recognised him? What would he do then? He wouldn’t have an explanation for it, well, not one that they would believe anyway.

But the thing was, he really wanted to go to this thing with Frank. He’d meant it when he’d told Frank he was cool, no matter how lame he’d sounded when he had. Frank hadn’t even questioned why Gerard liked to hang around in this creepy building all the time. Frank treated Gerard like a normal person, which, as far as Frank was concerned, Gerard was. But Frank was going to have to find out sometime and when he did he was going think Gerard was crazy and would never want to see him again.

He’d read through all three comics that Frank had brought him, twice. He hadn’t read a comic in years. It felt good, more than good. That had taken up a few hours of his time so he wasn’t worrying about what he was going to tell Frank. But now his mind was empty, allowing the anxiety to set in.

He went to the back of the building, the darkest part, digging up his sketchbook and pencils. He’d found the sketchbook empty, just lying around near the entrance. It was smelly and a few of the pages were torn, but it was mainly usable. The pencils he could obtain easily when kids walked by on their way home from school, chucking their things they no longer wanted at the place. They were usually blunt and most of their leads broke as they hit the ground, but the ones in tact he’d managed to salvage.

It was mainly full of sketches for Mikey, things he’d like such as unicorns and the zombies in action that Mikey always loved to watch him create. But recently he’d begun drawing pictures of Frank. At first they’d just started off as simple doodles, quick sketches, but then they began to evolve into more elaborate drawings. Gerard began concentrating on detail, making sure that he got Frank’s smile just right or that he captured the way Frank’s bangs fell just perfectly past his eyes.

Frank really did have beautiful eyes, Gerard had noticed. At first glance they just looked brown, like all the other brown-eyed people in the world, but if you looked closer or if the light hit them right, then they had a green hue to them. Gerard wasn’t sure when he’d begun to pay so much attention to Frank, but he wasn’t regretting anything yet. Except from telling he’d go with him next week. He didn’t know what he was going to do about that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be able to update this everyday; the only reason I've been able to so far is because I'd written a few chapters already before I decided to post it to this site. 
> 
> Quick question for you guys: is it going from one point to another too fast? Like would you like more detail on some parts or is it alright? Because I know I sometimes I tend to skip to the next part of the story really fast, so just warn me if I do that too much, okay? Awesome
> 
> Again, enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Frank was immensely delighted that Gerard had said yes. He couldn’t stop grinning for the rest of the evening and was still smiling about it at school the next day. He couldn't pinpoint whether it was for the film or whether it was for Gerard.

“You’ve been smiling at that burger all lunch and it cannot be because it tastes good because it is fucking vegetarian so what’s going on?” Bob looked at Frank expectantly, waiting for an explanation. Frank wanted to give Bob a speech on how vegetarian food tasted just as good as the real deal but with less murder, but he knew it would be wasted breath.

“It’s because he’s got a date.” Ray grinned down at his own fries. Frank shot him a glare across the table.

“I do not.” He mumbled, picking at the lettuce in his burger.

“A date? Well Frank, I have to say I feel slightly cheated on.” Pete’s voice came from behind him before Pete placed his tray of food down next to Frank, sitting next to him with a goofy smile on his face.

“Shut up. And it’s _not_ a date. I knew I shouldn’t have told you, Ray.” Frank grimaced, chucking a French fry at Ray, it getting stuck in his hair. He hadn't been going to tell anyone, but then Ray had bought up Halloween plans and Frank just couldn't hold it in.

“Sorry.” Ray apologised, shaking the food out of his hair.

“A date? Who with?” Bob frowned.

“It’s not a date!” Frank sighed, rolling his eyes heavily.

“Probably that weird kid you’ve been hanging out with, right?” Pete prodded Frank in the side, twice.

“He’s not weird.” Frank sighed, shaking his head, batting Pete’s hand away. He didn't really think Pete could be calling Gerard weird when Pete was, well, Pete.

“What weird kid? Do you know him, Pete?”

“He’s not weird.”

“Nope. He hangs out in that old building all the time, you know the creepy one with all the rumours about the hauntings? Weird.” Pete filled Bob in.

“Weird.” Bob agreed.

“He’s not weird!” Frank snapped, eventually pushing his food away from him, deciding he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Come on, he’s always in that place, he never leaves. That’s pretty weird.”

“He's not _always_ there, he just happens to be there when I go. And anyway he’ll be leaving it next week won’t he?” Frank argued back, getting tired of the guys teasing Gerard like this.

“Oh yeah, for your date.” Pete winked and Frank didn’t even bother to respond to him anymore. “Whatever, I’m gonna go find Patrick, I’ll catch you later.” He left the table, knocking Frank playfully on the chin before jogging away, leaving his tray right where he’d left it, the food untouched. Sometimes Frank didn’t understand that boy.

“I think maybe you should be a little careful, Frank.” Bob piped up once Pete had gone, sending him a serious stare from across the table. When Frank sent him a puzzled look in return, Bob elaborated. “You hardly know the guy, and where did you meet him? In a creepy ass building where no one ever goes. Even Pete doesn’t know him, and he knows everyone. I’m not so sure about this guy…” Bob was being ridiculous. Gerard was friendly and funny and harmless. And he’d been much nicer to Frank than these guys were being right now.

“Thanks for your concern but I can take care of myself.” Frank hissed, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder, storming off. He didn’t know why they were being such assholes about Gerard. He’d thought that if Frank introduced them to him then they’d get on really well together. Were they jealous? That could be it. They could be jealous of how much time Frank was spending with Gerard. Well, it was a lot.

“Hey, Frank! Hey!” Ray jogged up beside him, pulling on Frank’s shoulder gently to slow him down. “We didn’t mean to, you know, piss you off like that.” Ray phrased it as if he was speaking for all of them. He did that a lot. Ray was the only one in the group whoever apologised, which also meant that he did it on their behalf, even if they weren’t sorry, which was quite often. Ray was always trying to keep the peace and Frank had to wonder if all of them would still be friends if it weren’t for that. “We just worry for you, you know?”

“Like I said, I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I remember the black eye you gave Chris in 5th grade when he tried take your guitar from you.” Frank smiled at the memory. That had been his first ever right hook he’d thrown. He'd been given three weeks of detention for it and an angry phone call to his mom (who had _not_ been happy about it at _all_ ) but still, Frank didn't regret it. It certainly made Chris back off. “How about you bring him over to the comic store some time? I’d like to meet the guy I’ve been lending them too.” Ray smiled; nudging him with his elbow and Frank couldn’t help but soften slightly.

“Yeah, yeah alright I’ll think about it.”

*

That evening when Frank went to the building to see Gerard, he couldn’t find him. He wasn’t sat in his usual hallway. His usual hallway was desolate. Frank decided to stay for a bit anyway, seeing he had nowhere better to be, and did a little exploring. The place was so extensive that Frank wasn't sure where to start, so he decided on delving further down the hallway where he usually sat with Gerard, noticing it got considerably darker. It was similar to something from a horror movie and if Frank didn't have such a passion for horror films then he might have turned back. The space became smaller as there were no windows or holes in the ceiling of the building. It felt very enclosed and Frank wasn’t sure how much further he could keep going without starting to panic. Small spaces weren't his thing. 

His foot came in contact with something, causing him to trip up slightly. He cursed under his breath but knelt down, feeling around, his fingertips brushing over what felt like a book of some sort. Taking hold of it, he stood up, opening up the book and squinting, as if that would help him to see better in the dark. Realising his efforts were useless, and he was feeling uncomfortable anyway, he turned around and began walking back the way he came, carrying the book with him so he could get a better look at it.

When he was back at the section of the building where he usually sat with Gerard, he sat down, opening the book out onto his lap. It held pages and pages full of drawings, sketches, short ramblings. Was it Gerard’s? Frank hadn’t seen Gerard draw or write before but it seemed like the sort of thing he’d be into.

Most of the drawings were dedicated to someone, having ‘For Mikey’ scribbled above it. Mikey? Frank knew a Mikey. Mikey Way. Mikey had been in Frank’s gym class. They’d usually skipped it together or if being unable to do that, they just trudged along slowly behind every else, not having any desire to participate with the jocks. He’d been a cool guy, that Mikey. Frank had been over to his his a couple of times too. He’d transferred schools three years ago when he’d had to move out of town. Frank couldn’t remember why.

“What are you doing?” Frank whipped his head up at the sound of Gerard’s voice to find him suddenly standing in front of him.

“Oh, hey!” Frank grinned, just happy that Gerard had shown up today. “Is this yours?”

“Uh…yes…” he’d folded his arms over his chest, looking at Frank anxiously.

“Who’s Mikey?” At this question Gerard frowned, looking away from Frank. He didn't look like he wanted to, or was going to answer. “These are some really awesome drawings.” Frank changed the subject, not wanting to put Gerard in a bad mood so soon. “Seriously, you’ve got some hardcore talent.”

“Really?” Gerard perked up at this, his shoulders relaxing a little and Frank knew he'd made a good choice.

“Are you kidding? This is amazing!” Frank began turning the pages excitedly to see what else he’d done, when he stopped suddenly. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side to make sure he was seeing things correctly. It was no longer mythical beings or creatures of the night that filled the page. Instead it was something much more...real. “Is this…is this _me?_ ”

“Er…yeah…er…I – I wasn’t – I’m not –“

“ _Dude!_ This is _amazing!_ How did you do this?”

“Um…”

“There’s so much detail, it’s as if you drew each strand of hair, _wow._ ” Frank marvelled over the drawing of himself. Gerard had somehow managed to make him look beautiful. He thought Gerard must go to an art school of some sort because these drawings were incredible. “Fuck! This is, just wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow, _wow._ ”

“R – Really?”

“Hell yeah! This is – this is really something, Gee.”

“…Gee?” Frank looked up again, hoping that Gerard didn’t mind the nickname. He hadn't even thought about it before he'd let himself say it, it had just...happened. 

“Uh, yeah…you don’t mind that, do you? Me calling you that?” Gerard smiled brightly and shook his head vigorously before plonking down beside Frank, looking over his shoulder to see sketched version Frank too. “Hey, can I keep this?”

“Uh, yeah…sure… um, here…” Gerard reached over and across Frank, holding Frank’s wrist to steady the book as he carefully tore the page out. Frank found himself holding his breath at Gerard’s touch, for two reasons. One because, it was Gerard, and two because he couldn’t _feel_ anything. He couldn’t feel any warmth coming from Gerard. He wasn’t cold exactly, just not…any temperature really. It was weird. It was as if Frank was numb and couldn’t feel Gerard’s touch but he knew that wasn’t it. “Here.” Gerard’s voiced pulled Frank back to attention as he held out the drawing he’d just removed from the book.

“Oh, thanks.” Frank took the page and neatly folded it, sliding it into his jean pocket. “Hey, did you finish those comics?”

“Yeah, yeah, they were really good, um…” he stood up, turning his head to look around the place. “I’ll just go get them a second.” He walked off into the dark area where Frank had found Gerard’s sketchbook and Frank began to wonder just how much time Gerard spent here. He bought his stuff along and just left them lying around in places, and he clearly knew his way around. Frank just assumed that Gerard had bought the comics over today; ready to give back to Frank. If he’d left them here over night and they got damaged then Ray would not be happy. Come to think of it, Gerard hadn’t changed clothes since he’d met Frank. But he’d never smelt bad, well except for his blazer, and Frank he been visiting Gerard for over a week now.

“I was thinking,” Frank shouted down into the darkness to make sure that Gerard could hear him. “Maybe you could come to the comic store with me to exchange them? Then you can pick your own.” He didn’t get a reply straight away and had to wait till Gerard began walking back carrying the bag of comics.

“Um…I’m not sure…” he placed the bag of comics down beside Frank, not taking his place next to him again but instead standing a little further away from him this time.

“That’s okay, it was just a suggestion.” Frank shrugged, but felt kinda sad all the same. It seemed Gerard was rather reluctant to go anywhere with Frank. Even when Frank had asked him to the film he had been unwilling at first and he had to admit, it didn't make him feel great.

He left quickly after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be able to update tomorrow as I have exams all day and the next chapter needs a little bit more work yet, but thanks for reading so far!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

“Hey, do you remember Mikey Way?” Frank asks, handing the comic books Gerard had borrowed back to Ray. It had been plaguing him since he'd read the name in Gerard's sketchbook but could not remember for the life of him why he'd left. 

“Yeah, he left a couple years ago, right?” Ray took the comics from Frank, pulling them out the bag and carrying them over to the shelves in the back where he’d retrieved them from before. “Your friend didn’t wanna come along?”

“I didn’t ask.” Frank lied, still a little butthurt from Gerard turning him down earlier. He didn’t need Ray to know about it too. “Do you remember why he left?”

“Who?”

“Mikey.”

“Oh! Oh…oh man…wasn’t his brother killed or something?” _Oh shit._ “Car accident? Yeah, I remember now, didn’t a car hit him? Oh, man, it was so sad. I had only talked to Gerard once or twice; he was in my art class. He usually kept to himself but sometimes we exchanged words over –“

“Wait – what did you just say?” Frank froze, widening his eyes as he turned around to properly look at Ray who just continued to arrange the comics, not realising what revelation he’d caused Frank to have.

“Huh? I’d only spoken to him once or twice in – “

“What did you say he was _called_?”

“Um…Gerard? I think…yeah I’m pretty sure it was Gerard, why?” _Oh shit._ It couldn’t be, could it? That didn’t make any sense, non-whatsoever. But now Frank came to think about it, he recognised Gerard. Fuck, he’d fucking _spoken_ to Gerard before he’d ‘met’ him in that building. But Gerard wasn’t dead. He had been alive – he was alive. He had a physical form, a healthy complexion to him; it couldn’t be the same Gerard. Gerard _Way_ had died. So who the fuck had Frank been talking to?

“Don’t tell Pete!” Frank cried, making his way towards the exit of the store, breathing heavily, trying to get his head around everything.

“What? Why would I tell Pete?”

“Just don’t! Okay?” Pete knew that Frank's 'creepy building friend' was called Gerard. If Pete found out about this then...well...Frank didn't really know what would happen but he knew that Pete was a blabber mouth, and would spread the word to everyone, making Gerard an exhibition, and as much as this was freaking Frank out, Gerard didn't need nor deserve that.

“Alright!” Ray held up his hands in mock surrender as Frank ran out of the shop. He needed to think all this over.

***

Frank hadn’t turned up in a couple of days, and Gerard was starting to worry. Gerard had agreed to go to a screening of _Dawn Of The Dead_ , which was supposed to be in three days. Gerard had been planning on giving Frank an excuse as to why he couldn’t go, so he didn't know why he felt sad about the fact that Frank may have just blown him off anyway.

He’d been pacing the building with embitter steps at the thought of it. Had he done something wrong? He hadn’t acted any weirder than he already had with Frank, so that couldn’t be it.

Maybe Frank had just realised what a freak Gerard really was, and that Frank could probably find way better people to hangout with. Gerard mentally kicked himself for getting so worked up over someone. He wasn’t even supposed to have talked to Frank at all yet here he was, anxious over whether he was going to return or not.

Maybe it was because Gerard hadn’t had the chance to miss someone new for a long time or maybe it was simply because he liked Frank, but either way, he found himself pining for the boy. It sucked having to stay in this creepy building everyday, while he watched people outside just carry on with their lives as if people like him didn’t even exist, which he supposed he didn't. Not really. He was just living in their shadow. He hated it but there was nothing he could do about it.

If it had been his own fault then he wouldn’t be so angry, but it _hadn’t_. None of this had been his fault and it was fucking _unfair_. He didn’t deserve any of this shit and more often than not he wondered,  _why him?_ It was a selfish thing to think.

It was pathetic. _He_ was pathetic, feeling sorry for himself like this, but sometimes he just couldn’t help it.

Now he really wished Frank was here, to take his mind off things.

***

Frank had rehearsed what he was going to say to Gerard over and over again in his head. He’d written down all the questions, and response questions to all of Gerard’s possible answers. And because Gerard was unpredictable that had been pretty hard to do. He didn’t need to work on his confidence; Frank had that. He was good with confrontational situations.

However, when he arrived at the building, his mind went blank. Would Gerard even be here? Frank hadn’t shown up for several days, maybe Gerard had given up showing up too. Even if that was the case, Frank entered anyway, inhaling a deep breath as he went on the hunt for Gerard.

Maybe his name wasn’t even Gerard. What were the chances that there were two Gerard’s with a brother named Mikey? Well actually, Gerard hadn’t confirmed that the Mikey he’d dedicated his drawings to was his brother. In fact, Gerard had dodged the entire subject of ‘Mikey’ when Frank had brought it up.

How had Frank not been more suspicious to begin with?

“Frank!” Frank spun around on his heels to find Gerard waving at him happily from across the room, jogging up towards him. The click of his shoes on the ground echoed throughout the old swaying structure, setting up Frank for what was next. As he reached Frank he stepped back a little, clearing his throat and burying his hands deep into the pockets his blazer provided. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He shrugged his shoulders once, staring down at the ground, scuffing a few loose pebbles and grime with the toe of his sneaker.

“Yeah, I’ve had a lot of school work and stuff to catch up on. Outstanding assignments and shit.” Frank lied, and he knew that Gerard could probably tell he wasn’t being entirely truthful. “So, I, um, I was thinking about those drawings you did, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay…and it just got me thinking…who’s Mikey?” Frank watched as Gerard’s shoulders tensed up at the mention of the name. A few moments of silence passed, but the silence felt loud in the echo of the building.

“Why do you want to know?” Gerard had answered his question with another question, a sure sign that he was trying to hide something.

“I was just curious.” Frank narrowed his eyes now, folding his arms across his chest. “So, you gonna tell me?” Gerard mimicked Frank’s actions, crossing his arms over his chest, stepping back slightly from Frank’s hostile attitude.

“Do I _have_ to tell you? Because the way you're phrasing it makes it sound like I don’t really have a choice, Frank.” This was the most confident Frank had heard Gerard sound since meeting him…or depending on how weird this got, since meeting him the _second_ time. Frank decided to try a different approach at finding out what was going on.

“What’s your last name?”

“What? Why is that important?” Gerard frowned, his eyes becoming dark.

“I just want to know.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to tell you.”

“There seem to be a lot of things you don’t want to tell me.”

“I’ve not even known you two weeks, what do you expect? For me to bawl out my entire life’s story to you?”

“It’s a _name_. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?” he offered, a playful phrase but his tone had become harsh. Frank couldn’t help it anymore, he was pissed enough that Gerard had been lying to him for this long.

“I don’t make deals _Iero._ ” And that was when Frank had him. He knew he did. His first encounter with this guy had not been in this building. It had been three years ago.

“And how do you know my last name?” Gerard froze, his eyes widening, but only slightly and only for a second; not quick enough before Frank saw though.

“I…you told me.” Even for the few seconds he’d had to improvise Frank thought that he could have come up with a better excuse than that.

“No I didn’t. Now I’m going to ask one more time. How do you know my last name?” Gerard’s arms uncrossed themselves as they fell limply to his sides and his eyes became wide with fear. Frank didn’t notice it at first, as he was moving so slowly, taking such small steps, but Gerard was backing away from Frank, as if Frank was the crazy pathological liar in all of this. “Gerard?” Frank was beginning to worry now. He hadn’t seen Gerard look like this before. Gerard looked scared. Really scared. His body was shaking, trembling and he kept retreating backwards until his back hit a wall and he slumped down it, resting his head on his knees and burying it with his arms.

Frank figured he knew what was going on now. “Gerard? Your last name’s Way, isn’t it?” Frank whispered, loud enough to be audible. He walked over to Gerard, crouching down in front of him. Gerard nodded his head, though it was slightly difficult to notice seeing as he’d enveloped it with his arms. “And Mikey’s your brother, isn’t he?” Another nod, but a much longer delay. Frank sighed, sitting down and crossing his legs, just watching Gerard. “Gerard did you…did you fake your death?”

“ _What?_ ” Gerard snapped his head up, a bewildered expression on his face. “Did I _what?”_

“Did you fa –“

“No! No I didn’t _fake my death,_ Jesus Frank!” Frank wasn’t sure why Gerard found the idea so ridiculous. He _was_ supposed to be dead after all.

“Then what’s going on? You’re Gerard Way, right? Gerard Way is dead.” Gerard winced as Frank spoke the words. He sighed before resting his chin on his knees and just staring at Frank.

“Ask me how old I am.” Frank frowned but couldn’t see any harm in humouring the guy.

“Alright, how old are you?” And Frank had found himself wondering Gerard’s age for a while anyhow.

“18.” Well that couldn’t be right. Frank was 16 and Gerard was supposed to be at least 5 years older than him because he had been in his senior year when Frank had met Mikey as a freshman.

“That can’t be right.” Frank dismissed what Gerard claimed to be his age straight away. Gerard would have to be in his early 20’s now. But…Gerard did look very young. Much _much_ younger than twenty something.

“I’m 18, Frank.” Gerard nodded. Frank couldn’t understand what Gerard was trying to say. Had he skipped several grades, was that it? Was Gerard some kind of child prodigy in hiding?

“Okay. So let’s say you’re 18. I still don’t understand what this has to do with you having supposedly died three years ago.”

“There’s nothing ‘supposed’ about it. 3 years ago I died. That’s not a lie.”

“Well yes it is. You’re here, right now, I’m looking right at you.”

“I died three years ago.” He repeated as if Frank just hadn’t listened the first time.

“So…what? Are you trying to say you’re a figure of my imagination and I’m crazy, is that it?”

“No. Other people can see me too.”

“So…are you trying to tell me that you are the dead Gerard Way?” Gerard’s silence made Frank assume that his answer was a yes. “You’re telling me you’re dead?” Frank crossed his arms and began glaring. “Fucking hell Gerard, if you didn’t want to hang out with me then you could’ve just fucking said so, but making up this bullshit? Fuck you.” Frank stood up from the ground, turning to exit the building, furious. If he’d annoyed Gerard that much then he should’ve just said something, but trying to spin off this crap? “Fuck you!” Frank hissed, flipping him off before storming out.

He didn't have any intentions of coming back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out I'm most creative at 1 in the morning as this is the time I finished this chapter and managed to update it, yay.
> 
> Sorry for the Fake Your Death reference, I didn't realise until after I'd put it in, and if you hadn't made any link to that song until I'd just said it, I apologise for that too. 
> 
> Because it's 1am, it's technically the next day so this is my update for the day, but because the chapter after this is pretty much ready to go, if I have time I'll update that tomorrow (technically today) too.
> 
> Hope I made sense there.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

It had taken Gerard a full six days to finally make a move to reach out to Frank, meaning that he’d missed the horror movie screening they were supposed to be seeing together. Halloween was in four days so Gerard was running out of time. With the excitement for Halloween growing, that meant the area was getting busier, and if Gerard wanted to leave without being noticed then it had to be soon.

After standing in the entranceway of the building for hours, he’d finally worked up the courage, shoving his blazer over his head so no one would be able to see him. He vaguely remembered where Frank’s house was, as long as he hadn’t moved in the three years. He’d picked Mikey up from there a couple times before.

He ran the entire way, not wanting to give anybody a chance to see him, though in hindsight he probably brought more attention to himself this way. It had been years since he'd stepped outside and he had no idea how it was Frank that had made him take the full leap. He desperately wanted to take a good look around, to soak in the sunlight, to see if anything had changed or to just take in the scenery of the outside world he’d hidden away from for so long, but he was too terrified. Every passing second he was outside, the more he became filled with trepidation and by the time he made it to Frank’s door (or at least, fuck, he hoped it was Frank’s door) he was practically hyperventilating.

He thumped his fists against the door in a whirl of panic, his grip on his blazer having become so tight that he was sure his knuckles would have been turning white if he wasn’t considerably pale already.

To Gerard’s utter relief, Frank opened the door, making the move to shut it again as soon as he saw Gerard’s face, but Gerard was quick. He shoved his foot between the door and the frame, preventing it from closing.

“What the fuck do you want?” Frank spat, and if looks could kill then Gerard would be dead. Or…dead again, anyway.

“You’ve gotta let me in! Now!” Gerard pleaded, looking anxiously around him. If anyone saw him it'd all be over. There'd be so many accusations about him, rumours, and sure now that he was dead he shouldn't have to worry about such things, but so far life after death was just the same as life, but lonelier.

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Frank, I’m not messing around, _please._ I can’t let anybody see me!”

“What? You’re ashamed to be seen with me now, is that it?” Jesus, Frank wasn’t making this easy for him.

“Fuck, Frank! Argh!” not being able to wait for an invitation, Gerard jumped at Frank, the two of them toppling over onto the floor together, Gerard kicking the door closed as he went down. There was a long stretch of silence, mainly just the sound of Gerard mumbling to himself over how what he'd just done was crazy, but then Frank began violently kicking beneath him.

“Get off me!” Frank cried, shoving Gerard hard in the chest, causing him to topple off Frank and onto the floor. He just lay there, trying to get his head around what he’d just done. He’d left that building. Finally, after three years, he’d managed to leave it. Granted he was regretting it now as he was filled with angst over it, but that didn't take shine away from the fact that he’d done it. “What are you doing here?” Frank demanded. He was still angry. Really angry. Gerard could hear it in his voice.

“I didn’t lie to you, Frank.” Gerard said, concentrating on slowing down his breathing to a normal pace. Even though he didn’t _need_ to breath he was still inhaling deep gulps of air. He may not have needed it but it sure as hell helped to calm him down. But it probably wasn’t in his favour of convincing Frank at all, so he stopped. “I didn’t.”

“You expect me to believe that you’re dead right now?” How was Gerard supposed to prove it to Frank? How did people usually prove that they were dead? Well, they didn't usually have to. If you were dead, you were dead. Gerard tried to think back to any films similar to situations like this, but was still so worked up from earlier that he couldn’t really concentrate on anything.

Suddenly, an idea sprung to mind. He didn’t know if it would work, he’d never done it before, but he couldn’t see anything wrong with it, he couldn’t die twice, right? Besides, this was the only option he had right now…well…the only option that would be convincing enough.

“Are you home alone right now?” Gerard asked, sitting up and brushing his hair out of his face. He didn’t want to scare the shit out of Frank’s parents. He couldn't remember if he’d met Frank’s parents before but the less who knew about him the better.

“Yes, yes I’m home alone and I’d like to stay home alone so _leave_.” Gerard ignored him, pushing himself off the floor and standing up, looking around for Frank’s kitchen.

“Your kitchen's in the back, right?”

“ _What?_ ” but he didn’t wait for Frank’s reply before he started walking towards the back of the house, where the hallway did indeed open out into a kitchen, just like he’d expected. Gerard had been to Frank’s house before, but he didn’t know his way around. It had only been quick visits to pick up Mikey, and then he’d left again. Gerard began pulling open draws, desperately looking for what he needed. “What are you doing? I said get out!” Frank ran in behind Gerard, trying to yank him away but Gerard just shook him off, continuing his raid through Frank’s kitchen.

“I’m going to prove it to you, alright?” Gerard snapped when Frank had started to shove him around, making it difficult for him to find what he needed. “So stop pushing me and let me get on with it!” Frank didn’t listen, but by that time Gerard had found the drawer he needed, pulling out a large steel knife from it. Frank’s eyes widened as he cautiously began to step away from Gerard.

“Whoa, what…Gerard…put the knife down…”

“I’m going to prove it to you. You want to know if I’m lying or not, right?”

“This is insane!” Gerard ignored him, angling the knife at his stomach. His chest would have been a better place to do it, right where his heart should be, but that was an awkward angle for him and he didn’t think he was strong enough to break through his rib cage either. “Gerard, fucking stop!” Gerard held out the knife from his stomach at arms length, taking a deep breath he didn't need, to prepare himself for what he hoped was going to work. “ _Gerard! Put the fucking knife down!”_ And then he plunged the cold steel into his stomach.

He didn’t feel anything at first, just a heavy impact to his gut. It felt like he could just stand up straight, smile, and walk around with this knife submerged in his intestines all day, acting as if nothing was wrong. But then things became more real. Gerard dropped to his knees as he lost his breath, which was strange because he didn’t need to breathe, but this was making him feel like he did, and it wasn’t long until the burning pain followed up. What the fuck had he done?

Gerard was dying. Again.

***

“ _Holy shit!_ ” Frank shrieked as he watched the knife bury itself in Gerard’s stomach. Everything had escalated so quickly. First he’d just been telling Gerard to leave and then the next thing he knew, Gerard had just stabbed himself. Gerard had just fucking stabbed himself and Frank had no fucking idea what to do. He’d jumped as Gerard had done it and he was still jumping now, grabbing his hair in fistfuls due to what he’d just witnessed.

It became ten times worse when he heard Gerard’s scream.

It was an ear piercing, glass shattering, blood-curdling scream that made Frank feel ill. What the hell was he supposed to do? Call 911 and say “my friend just fucking stabbed himself in the fucking stomach because he believed he was already fucking dead”? Yeah, that wouldn’t get Gerard a one-way ticket to a mental intuition at all, though by what had just happened Frank thought that maybe Gerard would benefit from being in such a place.

Frank brought his attention back to the lunatic now squirming on his kitchen floor, running over to him and trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Frank yelled at him, unsure what to do with his hands so he ended up just placing them on Gerard’s shoulders, pinning him to the ground.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckity, _fuck!_ It fucking hurts!”

“Well of course it fucking does, you just fucking stabbed yourself! _Oh my God!”_

“Shit! I didn’t think it would hurt!”

“ _What?!_ Why on earth would you think impaling your stomach wouldn’t hurt?”

“Because I didn’t think I could die again! Oh _shit_ it hurts so fucking much!” Frank ignored the part about Gerard mentioning he didn’t think he could die _again_ , because, hell, he hadn’t died a first time yet, but now was possibly going to be it. Frank’s first thought was to pull the knife out but then realised that Gerard would bleed out a lot quicker, plus, it was super gross and Frank didn’t think he was capable of doing such a thing without throwing up. He’d have to call an ambulance, but first he had to get something to soak up the blood that was already there.

Wait a second.

Shouldn’t there be blood? Well Gerard had just stabbed himself so he should definitely be bleeding. But when Frank looked there wasn’t any blood, not even a single drop.

“Gerard…there’s no…there’s no blood…” Frank was as confused as ever. Gerard paused moaning long enough to move his head up, looking down at himself. “Why aren’t you bleeding?” Gerard frowned a little too, before lying his head back on the floor and screwing his eyes shut. Before Frank could stop him and warn him about the very high possibility of bleeding out to death much quicker, Gerard pulled the blade out from his flesh, crying out as he did so. It was a good job Frank had a strong enough stomach to witness this.

Once it was all the way out, Gerard tossed the knife across the kitchen floor, groaning in relief.

“It worked.” Gerard sighed, relief eminent in his voice. "Thank God it worked." he laughed shakily. 

“What the…” Frank was sat back now, just staring at Gerard in terror. He couldn’t get his head around what had just happened. Gerard had just stabbed himself…but he was fine. Apart from the gaping hole he’d made in his shirt, he was fine. He watched Gerard sit up, wincing slightly and pulling up his t-shirt just past his bellybutton to see where the bleeding wound should be. But there wasn’t anything there. Just a small thin line that was quickly vanishing. “What the…” Gerard looked over at Frank, a small smile on his face.

“I told you so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually a little nervous to post this chapter though it was really fun to write, so I just hope you like it as much as I liked writing it *jumps off a cliff at how cheesy that sounds*
> 
> Might be able to update tomorrow, but if not then it will definitely be the day after. 
> 
> This chapter could be nominated for the most use of the f-word


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Gerard was a dead man walking.

Frank had spent the first 15 minutes just staring at Gerard, dumbfounded. This wasn’t something he could just easily get his head around. First he had to get over the fact that Gerard had not too long ago skewered himself with Frank’s kitchen knife. And now he had to get over the fact that even though Gerard had skewered himself with Frank’s kitchen knife, he had not died. He had not even bled. No, Gerard was dead alright.

And now Frank came to think of it, Gerard’s chest didn’t rise and fall with each breath he took, which now made sense because he didn’t _need_ to take a breath. Frank hadn’t felt Gerard’s warmth because there was no warmth. Gerard didn’t have a heart that was pumping blood around his body, which also explained the lack of bleeding when he’d harpooned himself. Frank just hadn't paid attention to any of the signs. 

Gerard was dead and Frank didn’t know how to feel about this. On one hand it was _so freaking cool._ Was Gerard a zombie or a ghost or what? Either way, it was awesome. But on the other hand it was sick and twisted and made everything so much more complicated, and it couldn't be much fun for Gerard.

“So…you’re dead.” Frank finally spoke up, saying what Gerard already knew. “But…you don’t look dead.”

“Please, Frank, enlighten me on how dead people are supposed to look?” Gerard sounded agitated, probably due to the fact he had only moments ago just pierced his stomach.

“When I think dead I think zombies, ghosts, shit like that. But you're…you're…you're pretty much human.”

“Pretty much human?”

“Yeah. Your flesh isn’t disintegrating, you’re body isn’t transparent, you’re not oozing goo out of your orifices.”

“Gross!” Gerard wrinkled up his nose at the thought. “If I was oozing goo out of anything I think I’d prefer to just cease to exist.” Frank gave a small smile, and Gerard returned it. Was it okay to laugh at things like this? Were there rules to what he could and couldn't joke about? 

“You do realised how strange this is, right?”

“For the past three years strange has been my normal.” Gerard shrugged as if it was nothing, as if he hadn't just told, or rather  _shown,_ Frank that he was dead.

“Shit Gerard! You’re dead!” Frank just had to cry it out again because it was _weird._ “Sorry.” He apologised when he realised it may be a little insensitive to keep pointing that out to the guy. “So I guess this is why you were reluctant to come to the movie with me?” Gerard nodded. “And why you couldn’t come to the comic book store with me?” Another nod. “Well that last one was probably for the best, I mean, I’m pretty sure Ray would remember you.”

“Ray?”

“Yeah, the guy who lent me the comics to give to you. He says he spoke to you a few times.”

“Ray…Ray…Ray…” Gerard frowned, Frank guessed he was trying to see if the name brought back any memories, before his eyes lit up and he smiled. “Ray Toro!”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“He works at the comic store?” Frank nodded. “He was always really nice, no matter who he was talking to. Yeah…he’d remember me I think.”

“So you’ve stayed inside that building for three years?”

“Well what was I supposed to do? I tried leaving but just kept freaking out. I didn’t want anybody to recognise me and turn me into some sort of living dead freak show.” That was true, that was a big possibility now Frank came to think of it.

“But…you left today. You came here.”

“Well yeah…I…I needed you to know the truth.”

“Why? You could’ve just left it and I wouldn’t have come back.”

“Yeah I know, but I wanted you to come back…” Frank wanted to grin and hug Gerard hard when he said that. The truth was that Frank would have probably come back eventually. He liked Gerard, really liked him. He wasn’t like his other friends, and it wasn’t just because his other friends were breathing. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get back to the building. It was hard enough getting out of it, it’ll look even weirder when I run back in there.” It was almost dark soon, meaning that not many people would be able to see him anyway.

“It’s fine. I’ll walk you back and we can just put a hat on you or something.”

***

Gerard hadn’t been sure what to expect once Frank found out about him, but he was more than happy with the outcome. He'd figured that it might have been too much, that maybe Frank would've freaked out just as much as he did when he first found out, that Frank wouldn't want to be involved in such a messed up situation, but Frank just pretty much acted normal again, aside from plaguing Gerard with questions, like he was now.

It had been two days since Frank had found out, and Gerard was happier than he’d been in the three years. Frank came over to the old building every day, just spending time with Gerard. It was nice. It felt normal.

“So can you, like, move through things?” Frank asked. They were both lay down on the dusty floor, top to tail, but had shifted so that their heads were beside each other.

“No.”

“Can you move things?”

“What, do you mean like telekinesis or like a poltergeist?”

“Both!”

“No.”

“Can you possess people?”

“I’m not a demon, Frank.” But he smiled all the same, amused at how animated Frank was over this.

“Then what _can_ you do because, no offence, but you sound like the most boring dead person out there, including the ones buried six feet under.”

“Well I can, like, interfere with electrical currents and stuff.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well like when the Ghost Hunters crew or whatever were here –“

“Really! Like the ones on TV!” Gerard nodded, eyes widened and slightly thrown back that Frank was into such things. “What did they find?” And then Gerard had to try very hard to stop himself from breaking out into a fit of laughter. But apparently he didn’t try hard enough as Frank frowned, catching Gerard’s smirk. “What?”

“You know everything to they do is fake, right?”

“Well sorry,” Frank began sarcastically. “Seeing as I’m talking to a corpse right now I just didn’t think for such things to be so absurd.”

“Fair enough.” Gerard shrugged, realising he had him there.

“So it’s really fake, huh?”

“Yep.” Gerard laughed, turning his head to look at Frank.

“Aw dude…I gotta say…I’m kinda disappointed.” And Gerard laughed again, because it was just easy to do that with Frank. “So no lost spirits? No lonely misguided ghosts?”

“No, just me sorry.”

“Ah, just you isn’t so bad.” Frank smiled, turning his head to meet Gerard’s, and Gerard had to turn away, feeling his cheeks turn pink. He was glad he’d met Frank. He was glad Frank had stumbled into this building to find shelter from the heat. He was happy Frank had come back to see Gerard, and he was happy he’d risked going outside just to get Frank to understand. He was happy.

***

“I’m sorry, by the way. About missing the movie…” Frank watched as Gerard knotted his fingers together nervously.

“Yeah,” Frank replied, because he wasn’t going to say it was okay, because it kind of wasn’t. Maybe he was being a bit of an ass about the whole thing but he’d really been looking forward to going to it with Gerard, but now he mentioned it, Frank could think of a way for Gerard to make it up to him. It was probably a dick move to make, especially when Gerard had died and everything, but Frank wanted to try at least. “There’s another film showing, on Halloween night. You could come with me to that one.”

“Oh…I’m not so sure…it’s just –“

“It’s Halloween so we can dress up, make you unrecognisable, turn you into a real zombie.” Frank provided, getting rather excited about the idea himself. “And it’ll be dark so no one will pay much attention, you’ll blend in, I promise. Just one movie, I swear.” Frank made his eyes wide and batted his lashes, before pulling out the big guns. This was guaranteed to get Gerard to say yes. “Plus, it’s my birthday.” Frank smiled slyly.

“Ohh, that’s not fair!” Gerard whined, scrunching up his eyes in annoyance. He sighed, turning his head towards Frank's again, cracking open one eye. “Really? Your birthday’s on Halloween?” he asked and Frank nodded, smiling back. “Fuck, that’s cool.” He bit his lip, shaking his head.

“So is that a yes?” Frank tried, crossing his fingers behind his back, really hoping that Gerard agreed.

“You better have good zombie costumes.”

“Yes!” Frank cheered with maybe a bit more enthusiasm than he would have liked Gerard to hear, but he was happy. “This is gonna be great!”

***

Gerard had been dreading and anticipating Halloween night since he’d agreed to going with Frank. It was going to be fun, he liked Frank, very much so, but it was also going to be scary, and not just because it was Halloween. It was going to be strange dressing up, pretending to be a creature of the dead when he already was one. He was just praying Frank bought along some good costumes that would make Gerard unrecognisable. 

“I went all out tonight, Gee!” Frank’s voice sounded from the entrance, and Gerard trudged out of hiding to see what he was going to be wearing for the evening. “Okay,” Frank began as he saw Gerard, laying out everything he’d brought into separate piles. “So for the clothes, most of them are just old stuff we had lying around the house; I just tore them up a little and added some fake blood and stuff, so they're good to go, okay. I bought makeup so we can, you know, add gore to our faces and crap, and it’ll be good gore because I bought some of that liquid latex stuff, not sure how to use it though but we can figure it out. I _also_ got some really awesome – what?” Frank paused in his talking long enough to spot Gerard grinning at him. Gerard just couldn’t help but find Frank’s rambling pretty darn adorable.

“You’re really excited for this.” Gerard smiled, stepping forward to look through everything Frank had bought.

“Well yeah, dude, it’s _Halloween!_ The best time of the year, and I’m not just saying that because it’s my birthday.” He winked, picking up a bloody shirt and shredded pants. “Here, get changed, then its makeup time!”

 *

Gerard had ended up doing both of their makeup as Frank was, well, shit. It had taken a bit of time but that was only because Gerard had wanted to do it right. He may as well, he hadn’t done anything like this before and if they were going all out just like Frank said, then he was gonna take his time. He did Frank’s first so that Frank only had to get changed afterwards. Gerard used the liquid latex to create the effect of tearing skin, giving Frank a nice gash along his cheek, adding in the gore factor with the use of the fake blood and paints Frank had also brought along. He used the white powder to make Frank’s complexion much paler and used the black and purple paints to make Frank’s eyes appear dead. As Gerard stepped back to observe his handy work, he was impressed with himself. Frank looked pretty damn gross.

“Done.” Gerard tapped Frank on the chin before shoving his clothes at him. "Okay now get changed while I do mine.”

Gerard finished his makeup pretty quickly as he wasn’t as bothered about the detail, just as long as it made him unrecognisable.

“ _Dude!_ This makeup is amazing!” Frank came running in, geared up in his zombie outfit, looking pretty fucking epic. Gerard assumed Frank had checked himself out in the screen of his phone or something, because now he was dancing around the place like a loon. “Your art skills are transferable I see. This is really awesome, _we_ look really awesome!” Gerard smiled, applying the last bit of fake blood to his torn open chin before standing up, pulling on his zombie gear pretty quickly. He had to admit, he was feeling good. He hadn't dressed up for Halloween since...well Gerard couldn't even remember. Mikey had always had other friends to go trick or treating with, or parties to be at. Gerard hadn't managed to make that many friends, and him wearing eyeliner to school everyday had never helped. 

“Ready.” Gerard announced, wiping the fake blood off his hands onto his torn shirt.

“Alright! Let’s do this!” Frank cheered, and Gerard walked over to him, wrapping his arms around his small body and pulling him in for a tight hug. It was nice. He could feel Frank's warmth emanating from his body, and after not feeling someone else's heat for a while, not even feeling his own, it felt good. Gerard could also feel the shock from Frank against his chest before Gerard placed his mouth by Frank’s ear.

“Happy Birthday, Frankie.” He whispered, and then he felt Frank soften against him, beginning to hug him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna split this into two chapters but I think it all fits nicely together, plus I like the way the end of this works with the ending of the next one (hopefully you'll see that when I update) so I thought I'd be better off leaving it. 
> 
> Once again, I hope you enjoy it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Gerard was nervous the entire walk there, Frank could tell. Every five seconds Gerard was whipping his head around, always on edge as if someone was waiting to attack him. Eventually Frank had had enough, slinging an arm around Gerard’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Gee, it’s fine. No one’s gonna recognise you, just relax.” Frank had to reach up on his tiptoes a little to keep his arm around Gerard’s shoulders, but it was worth it. “You’re out on Halloween night, with the most awesome person you know, going to see _Alien,_ wearing the best zombie costume you’ve seen with the most badass makeup on ever. Enjoy it, will you?”

“The best zombie costume I’ve seen?”

“It was extremely last minute, it’s the best you’ve seen.” Gerard laughed, wrapping his arm around Frank’s shoulders too, so they were practically joined together, and Frank didn’t mind if they never separated again.

“Right. Best I’ve ever seen.”

There were a lot of people dressed up, parading the streets in their ghoulish attire. Frank saw a lot of good vampires and werewolves and witches and horror movie characters, but out of all the zombie looks Frank thought that his and Gerard’s had to be the best. Gerard’s makeup had just made it.

When they reached the movie theatre, the costume choices were just as wide. Frank spotted several Freddy Kruegers, a couple Jasons, some Leatherfaces and he even noticed a Predator lining up, which could be seen as slightly controversial seeing as they were all standing in line for the _Alien_ film, but it was a pretty sweet costume all the same.

“Hey dudes, awesome zombie looks!” a vampire yelled at the two of them as he walked past, giving them an impressed thumbs up.

“Thanks!” Frank shouted back, turning his head to smile at brightly at Gerard. “See? We look _awesome._ ”

There was an extremely uninterested teen working as the ticket vender for the night, so neither of them had any trouble buying their tickets to get into the movie. Frank had forgotten his fake ID and even though Gerard was 18, he didn’t think he had any ID to prove it, so they were lucky.

It was rather packed when they all filed in, Frank and Gerard spying two empty seats in the back corner, hurrying over to them and claiming them as their own. Frank pulled out the sweets he’d smuggled in through his backpack, handing Gerard a box of Red Vines and Skittles. Wait…did Gerard eat? _Could_ he eat?

“Um, wow, Gee, I’m sorry…can you eat this stuff?” Frank leant over to whisper to Gerard. Gerard didn’t seem sad or angry; instead he just kept his eyes on the screen as the movie began to play, leaning to the side to Frank to reply.

“I don’t need to eat but I can.” He replied, taking one of the boxes of candy from Frank.  

“Do you get full?”

“I’m not sure, we’ll have to figure that one out sometime.” Gerard turned briefly towards Frank to smile, before focusing his attention back on the screen.

Most of Frank’s attention throughout the film remained on Gerard, which was strange because usually Frank’s eyes could never be pried away from any sort of horror movie, no matter how awful it was. But tonight his focus was mainly on Gerard, so much so that he’d completely missed the part where the Facehugger latched onto one of the crew members face _and_ where the alien baby had tore it’s way out of his stomach _which was like the best part._

Gerard must have finally caught on as half way chewing through a Red Vine he leant towards Frank again, his eyes still on the screen.

“I feel like you're watching to see if an alien’s gonna burst out of _my_ stomach.” 

“Sorry.” Frank whispered, turning his head to screen only for a few seconds before he looked back at Gerard again. “Can you taste them?” he asked, nodding to the red liquorice in between Gerard’s teeth.

“Yes, it tastes like all the other liquorice candy, now _shhh_ , you're gonna miss Parker getting epically murdered by the alien.” Frank returned his head to the screen just in time to watch the alien peel back its lips, revealing two sets of mouths (what Frank liked to call, mouth inception) before it took a chunk out of Parker’s skull. The gore was awful but that was what made the film good in a way. 

“I just wanna watch Lambert get killed,” Frank whispered, “Her character really annoys me.” 

“Enough to want her to be killed brutally by an extra-terrestrial creature? Harsh, Iero, harsh.” But there was a smile on Gerard’s face, so Frank knew that he agreed too.

When the movie finished, trick-or-treaters were making their way home with their bags overflowing with candy. Drunken Halloween participators from Halloween parties still roamed the streets, girls in their slutty nurse outfits stumbling in their heels and their touchy-feely boyfriends taking this opportunity as an excuse to put their hands all over them.

Frank walked Gerard back to his building, laughing and joking on the journey, acting out scenes from the movie and posing hypothetical questions to each other.

“Okay, so if I’d been attacked by a Facehugger, would you keep me around or kill me to prevent the alien rebirth?” Frank asked, bumping his shoulder with Gerard’s every now and again.

“How long till the alien rips through your stomach?”

“Hmm…two days.”

“Can’t I just stay with you until then and then kill you just before it bursts through?” Gerard asked, suddenly breaking into a zombie style walk to match his costume.

“What? No, you don’t know when it’s gonna come out!”

“Then why did you say you had two days?”

“Because I have two days you just don’t _know_ I have two days.”

“Then how is that information relevant to me?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! Besides, you would need to incinerate my body to make sure it was destroyed and that is not a last minute job.” Gerard spun around, walking backwards so he could look at Frank.

“Hmm…well then I guess I’d have to kill you.” He shrugged simply, turning back around so he facing the direction he was walking.

“ _Dude!_ ”

“What? You’re asking me to endanger the entire human race for you, and that’s – oh crap…” Gerard stopped in his walk abruptly, just staring ahead, a disappointed look on his face.

“What?” Frank quickened his pace to catch up with Gerard, following his gaze. “Oh…” They’d reached the building where Gerard stayed in hiding, but it wasn’t deserted like it usually was. The place had been invaded by a large group of tipsy teenagers, some of which Frank recognised from school. They seemed to be trashing the place, well, wrecking it more than it already was. There were empty beer and vodka bottles littered over the place, far too many to be safe for the sized group that was there. They were loud and rowdy and the ones he knew, he knew they weren’t friendly. No, they were the types of people you avoided, the type you didn’t make eye contact with in the corridor for fear of getting punched for just being yourself. Frank had been lucky enough not to cross their paths yet, but then again, Frank was known not to be messed with too.

Knowing that Gerard would not make it into the building unnoticed and that once he was noticed his night would most likely be a nightmare, Frank came up with an idea.

“How about you stay at mine tonight? My parents are out of town for the weekend so no one will be there to see you. And you can shower and get that makeup off your face as well.”

“My clothes are in there…” Frank doubted he’d get those back if that group found it.

“Don’t worry, you can borrow something of mine.” Though Frank wasn’t sure if anything he leant Gerard would fit. “Come on, they’re not gonna leave anytime soon.” Gerard stayed staring a moment longer before lowering his head slightly, turning towards Frank.

“Yeah...yeah you’re right. Thanks.”

*

When Gerard stepped out of the shower at Frank’s, all the Halloween makeup was gone…except for some eyeliner. What…had Gerard reapplied or something?

“Dude…what’s up with the eye makeup still? Do you sleep with it on?” Frank didn’t necessarily have anything against it, to be honest Gerard pulled it off ridiculously well, but he’d never actually seen him without it.

“When the accident happened I was wearing it…so…” And then Frank burst out laughing, which he regretted immediately after because it made him sound so insensitive and like such an asshole. “Shut up.” Gerard rolled his eyes, leaning against the doorframe crossing his arms. “It doesn’t matter anyway, I look hot.” Gerard stated, cracking Frank a smile out of the corner of his mouth to let Frank know he was only half joking. “It’s the same with my hair too. It’s wet now, but when it dries it’ll dry to whatever condition it was in when I died, which kinda makes me wish I’d had a shower that day.” And Frank couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.

It took Frank a second to realise how Gerard was wearing his towel too; wrapped underneath his armpits, and Frank couldn’t help but start to laugh again.

“What now?”

“Why are you wearing your towel like a girl?” Frank grinned, amused beyond belief.

“Jesus! Stop picking on me!” Gerard sighed heavily, yanking the towel down so it sat dangerously low on his hips instead.

Frank was a little distracted by Gerard’s half nakedness to reply with something witty. He knew his eyes were lingering just a little too long on the cream colour of Gerard’s stomach, but he couldn’t help it. He was just _there._ Gerard didn’t have a washboard stomach or anything, Frank had seen the slight outline of pudge through Gerard’s shirt before, but it was still attractive, and besides, it wasn’t like Frank was toned himself or anything.

“Here,” he chucked a plain black t-shirt at Gerard along with a pair of grey sweatpants, deciding that the quicker Gerard became clothed, the better.

Frank’s room wasn’t that big, so there wasn’t really enough room to pull out an airbed or a spare mattress for Gerard to sleep on. But Frank’s bed was big enough, and he doubted Gerard would be fussy on where he slept after having to sleep in that old building for the past three years. Which also brought up the question, did Gerard even sleep?

“Um, Gerard? Do you sleep?” Frank asked when Gerard reentered the room in clothing, climbing onto his bed but not getting under the covers.

“No.” He hadn’t slept for the past three years? What did he do in that time?

“Don’t you get bored?”

“More lonely than bored to be honest.” He shrugged, but Frank could tell that it was a bigger deal for Gerard than he was letting on. Frank lay back on his bed, pointing to the light switch behind Gerard.

“Turn it off then come on over.” If Gerard felt uncomfortable about sharing a bed then he didn’t say anything, instead he happily obeyed, flicking off the switch and plunging the room into darkness before making his way over to Frank’s bed, climbing over Frank to lie down beside him. Maybe Gerard wasn’t as weird about it as Frank thought he would be because Gerard was just grateful to have some human contact for once.

They lay in silence for a while, only Frank’s breathing making a sound. But then Gerard shifted slightly, and Frank felt him getting closer.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“You said your parents weren’t here, right? But it’s your birthday…so…shouldn’t they be here?” Frank felt a wave of sadness wash over him as Gerard mentioned it. He’d never really been that close with his parents; they had just never seemed that interested in what Frank had to say or wanted to do. They’d asked if it was alright that their trip out of town was on the same week as Frank’s birthday, and Frank had wanted to say no. He’d wanted to act like a normal family; he’d wanted his parents to _want_ to spend time with their son on his birthday. But then his Dad had chimed in with “we completely understand if you want us here with you but we have prepaid for the hotel and we won’t be able to get a refund.” Frank knew that was his Dad’s way of saying they wanted to go. Saying that they’d prefer to have a weekend to themselves rather than to be with their son on his birthday. So he'd let them go. 

“My parents aren’t the greatest.” Frank settled upon, knowing that Gerard would understand everything from that. “But I suppose if they were here then you wouldn’t be, so I prefer things this way.” And then he mentally kicked himself for admitting such a personal thing.

“I’m glad I’m here too.” Gerard returned with, causing Frank’s cheeks to heat up slightly, and he was just so glad that it was too dark to see such a detail…unless Gerard had some sort of ghostly night vision…which he really hoped he didn’t.

“Gee? How did you…how did this _happen_?” Frank knew it was a sensitive topic to bring up and wouldn’t blame Gerard if he didn’t want to talk about it, but he’d had to ask, he’d _needed_ to.

“I hadn’t meant to, you know?” Gerard began, and Frank wanted to shout at him ‘well of course you didn’t’ but let it go, realising that Gerard probably hadn’t spoken about this to anyone before. He hadn’t had anyone before. “I’d gotten in an argument with Mikey…not a big one, but one that made me angry enough to leave the house for a while. The funny thing is I can’t even remember what we were arguing about now…” Frank didn’t even cast a second thought to what he was doing; he just reached out across the covers, found Gerard’s hand, and clasped it tightly, Gerard holing on just as tightly back. “I took a walk to clear my mind. Whatever Mikey and me had been arguing about, I decided it wasn’t that important and that I should just make it up to him. I’d brought out my sketchbook with me and my pencils, because I took it everywhere me, just in case I saw something interesting and wanted to draw it or if a creative thought came to mind, you know? And I began to draw some sketches for Mikey, all his favourite things because he was always bugging me to draw things for him.”

Gerard laughed lightly at the memory, but still keeping a firm grip on Frank’s hand. “I just pulled out my sketchbook and started to draw, all of Mikey’s favourite things. And then before I knew it I was lying on the ground. But it was weird because I hadn’t _done_ anything." Gerard's voice became harsh, his grip on Frank's hand tightening ever so slightly. "I’d been on the pavement, I hadn’t just stumbled into the road, I hadn’t walked out accidentally in front of car. I had _been on the pavement_. That’s where pedestrians are supposed to be so cars _don’t_ hit them. It wasn’t _fair.”_

“Gee…” Frank could feel his stomach begin to tighten at Gerard's sorrow. He'd never seemed that sad about what had happened to him, Gerard had always seemed to just accept it and move on, but now looking back on it, maybe that was because Frank had never asked about it before. Frank had always sort of just avoided the big question of  _how._  But now he'd asked he was finding out how Gerard really felt, and it hurt Frank to hear it.

“None of it was my fault. And – and I’m so _angry_ because not only was it not my fault, but because whoever’s fault it was made me leave my brother mad at me. Mikey’s last thoughts of me probably weren’t pleasant because even if I can’t remember the argument I know, _I know_ that it was probably my fault because sometimes I’m a jerk. Sometimes I’m a complete _asshole_ without even realising it, so I know that my argument with Mikey was my fault. And I was taken away before I could apologise, before I could make things right. And that isn’t _fair_.”

“Gee –“

“I’m really glad I met you, Frankie.” Gerard’s tone changed from the heated, hate filled one he’d been using, and it softened to something much more welcoming. “Death was really boring until you found me. And I’m glad you came back. I’m glad, Frankie. I’m glad…for everything you did.”

And then before he knew it, Frank’s lips were brushing lightly against Gerard’s. His mind was screaming for him to back off, alarm bells ringing in his head that this was wrong, really wrong, that Gerard had just spilled out his feelings to Frank, raw and brutal, and that kissing him could be seen as taking advantage, but at the same time he couldn’t stop. Gerard's mouth was just too good and wet and welcoming to pull away from it, their noses brushing as Frank pushed in closer. Trying to stop just became futile when he felt Gerard begin to kiss him back, his lips moving against Frank's, soft and slow. Gerard’s lips didn’t feel cold, they didn’t feel warm, they didn’t really have a temperature, just like his hand, but touching them still managed to cause a feeling in the lower part of Frank’s abdomen, a feeling that felt good, really, really good. He didn’t manage to experience the feeling for long, unable to take in every little detail, as the kiss was only brief. Gerard broke the touch, pulling back, and even though Frank didn’t open his eyes to see, he thought Gerard would be smiling.

“Happy birthday, Frankie." Gerard whispered, still only inches from Frank's face, so close that Frank could pucker his lips and they'd graze Gerard's again. "Go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favourite chapters so far, and I absolutely love the Alien films which is probably why I referenced to it so much in here, so, sorry about that.
> 
> Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this one and hope you like it!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this idea when the kids I were babysitting wanted to watch a Ghost Hunters show, and I thought why not try making it a Frerard?
> 
> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'

Watching Frank sleep had become one of Gerard’s new favourite things. Most of the time Frank put on a hard exterior, acting like he was closed off to the rest of the world. He didn’t speak about his feelings much and when he did he always seemed to regret it afterwards. But when he was sleeping, he was in a vulnerable state, and it was a nice change. He found himself brushing the dark hair out of Frank’s eyes, smiling a little more each time he did.

He shouldn’t have let Frank kiss him, and he shouldn’t have kissed Frank back. Yes he liked Frank, but he wasn’t supposed to do anything about it, he _couldn’t_ do anything about it. His life had stopped already. Frank’s was still going. It wasn’t fair, on either of them.

Frank mumbled something incoherent in his unconscious state, his hands balling into fists, a leg sliding in between Gerard’s. The contact and heat made Gerard want to squirm, but he couldn’t without waking up Frank, so he just bit his lip and tried to put his mind towards other things.

It was still late at night so Gerard couldn’t see amazingly well, but his eyes had adjusted to the dark quickly, so he could make out the outlines of certain objects. He could vaguely see the large stack of CDs in the corner of Frank’s room, unable to read what music he was into but he’d seen Frank in a Misfits shirt the day they met, so he concluded it would most likely be good taste. There were several band posters stuck up on Frank’s bedroom walls but Gerard hadn’t paid much attention to them when he’d come in, which he regretted now because he bet they would have been nice images to have in his mind. It was difficult to tell but he was sure that he could see a Black Flag poster up on Frank’s wall, which just made the guy 10x more awesome, if that was at all possible.

In the opposite corner from the bed of Frank’s room; Gerard could clearly see the shape of a guitar. Frank played guitar? Gerard never knew that. He wondered how good Frank was, how long he’d been playing for, if he’d play for Gerard. Gerard thought he’d like to hear Frank play, and that maybe he’d ask him in the morning about it.

***

When Frank woke up, Gerard wasn’t lay beside him. He didn’t know what time it was but Gerard wouldn’t have left early by himself. Firstly Gerard wouldn’t risk walking back to his building on his own and secondly, he just wasn’t like that. Frank reached his arms up above his head, stretching out his body, before sitting up, yawning, running his fingers through his bed hair. Once his eyes had adjusted to the light enough, Frank saw Gerard crouched down in front of his guitar, just staring at it.

“You play?” he asked, causing Gerard to whip his head around. Frank gave him a lopsided sleepy smile and Gerard turned his head back to the guitar.

“Not really.” He replied, gently stroking his fingers along the neck of the instrument. “How long have you been playing for?”

“Several years now.” Frank replied, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He’d begun when he was ten, it starting out as just something to pass the time, but then he’d gotten really passionate about it, and now…well now it was a whole part of his life.

“Are you any good?” Gerard turned back to Frank with a knowing smile and Frank just laughed, getting at where Gerard was going with this.

“I’m alright, I mean, I’m no Slash but, I’m alright.” Frank swung his legs out of the side of the bed, standing up and stretching out his back before walking towards his door. “I’m gonna go and get breakfast sorted, you coming?”

“Uh, yeah I’ll be down in a minute…um...do you think you could –“

“Maybe.” Frank smiled, giving his guitar one last look before leaving his room to go downstairs. “Maybe!”

***

After cooing over Frank’s guitar for a little while longer, Gerard decided to make his way to the kitchen for whatever Frank was doing for breakfast. It was strange. Gerard didn’t need to eat, nor did he ever feel hungry for food, but he could still taste the flavours and enjoyed eating.

When he entered the kitchen he was more than slightly taken aback at the extensive amount of food spread out on the table. There were only two of them here yet it looked as if Frank had emptied out the entire contents of his cupboards.

“Jesus, Frank, how much do you eat?” It couldn’t be this much as Frank was only small. “Did you invite the entire army of the undead over or something?”

“It’s for you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I want to see if you ever get full.” Frank replied, pulling out of jar of Nutella from the cupboard and placing it down with the other spread of food.

“So, what, I’m your personal experiment?” and Frank turned around, flashing Gerard a smile.

“Yeah, now be a good lab rat and sit down.” He winked, grabbing four pop tarts as they popped out of the toaster. Gerard rolled his eyes but sat down at the table all the same, kind of intrigued himself. He guessed it couldn’t hurt finding out about this.

*

40 minutes later and Gerard had devoured everything. He hadn’t taken a breather throughout it, but then again hadn’t needed to. Frank had been sat across from him, watching him in awe, and was still staring in wonder now.

“Your parents are gonna be mad.” Gerard pointed out, licking a spoon coated in raspberry jam clean.

“No, they don’t eat any of this crap anyway…fuck Gerard, where does it all _go?_ ” Gerard simply shrugged, unsure of it himself. He'd never had to think about it before and he didn't want to start thinking about it now. “Do you go to the toilet or anything?” Gerard shook his head. “Then what happens to it?” Gerard paused then, looking down at his stomach that should be bulging with food but wasn’t. “Gerard, if you're not crapping it back out –“

“Gross, Frank!”

“–then how is your body digesting it?” Gerard couldn’t answer that either. “Do you not know anything about your body?”

“What is this? A lesson on the science of Gerard?” Gerard huffed, placing the spoon down on the table with a little more force than was necessary. “Fuck, you sound like my 5th grade Sex Ed teacher. ‘Alright, today kids we’re going to learn more about our bodies and _ourselves_ ’.” Gerard rolled his eyes, shifting his chair away from the table heatedly.

“Yes! It is!” Frank exclaimed, pushing the food wrappers and empty bowls across to the side so he could lean over the table. “I’ve seen you blush but how is that possible if you no longer have a heart that’s pumping blood? And on that note, if you don’t have a heart that’s pumping blood, then how are your nerve endings still working allowing you to feel things? Don’t you want to know what you're capable of? If you have limits?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because! Because, Frank, after life there aren’t supposed to _be_ any limitations, if I find out that there are then…what’s the point? I don’t want to know about the ‘science of me’ because according to science there isn’t even supposed to _be a_ me. I’m not supposed to exist anymore; I should have stopped existing that night and the fact that I haven’t…I just…it’s just that I wanted to stop existing for so long and now I’ve found a reason…not to want that…and if I was to find out there was something that – that – that could cause me to become what science says, just a decomposed body, then, well, that’d just ruin everything…”

It felt good to get it all out. Even dead people had things to be scared about. When Gerard had first found out that he indeed still existed in some sort of sense, he didn’t want to. He’d had no one to exist _for,_ so what was the point? He’d hoped that at some point he’d just disappear, vanish into thin air. But then he’d met Frank, and he thought that Frank could start to become someone he could exist for. He didn’t want to then find out there was something that could hold him back from that.

“Okay. Alright. No more ‘science of Gerard’.” Frank promised, picking up one of the almost empty jars of Nutella and holding it out to Gerard. “Wanna finish it off?” Gerard smiled lightly, taking the jar from Frank and digging the spoon around in it.

“Thanks.”

***

“How was your date?” Bob asked coldly across the table. They were all pretty pissed at Frank, and Frank couldn’t blame them. He’d been neglecting them a little since he’d been spending so much time with Gerard, but at the same time he didn’t regret any of it. He doubted he ever would.

“It wasn’t a date,” Frank stated, even though it kind of had been, hadn’t it? At the end of they night they had kissed, that counted as a date, right? But they hadn't mentioned anything about the kiss since that night. Maybe Gerard regretted it. Maybe Gerard wasn't even into boys and Frank had just misread any signals. But, _fuck_ , you had to be at least a little bit gay if you wore that amount of eyeliner, regardless of whether he could take it off or not anymore. “It was just for my birthday.” He shrugged, taking a mouthful of the pasta he’d chosen for lunch, trying to take his mind off the whole 'did Gerard like him or didn't he?'.

“Oh right, the birthday we weren’t invited to.” Bob was glaring at Frank now, and Ray didn’t look too happy either.

“Oh come on guys, it would have been awkward for him if you were there too.”

“Then why did you invite him? We’ve been friends for years, Frank, _years._ You’ve known that guy for a couple of weeks.”

 _Because I like Gerard more than that now._ Frank thought, but he clearly couldn’t say that to them, so he quickly tried to create an excuse.

“I just…I just didn’t think, okay?” he lied, beginning to pick at his food instead of eating it.

“Bullshit, Iero!”

“Fuck, Bob just let it go!” Frank snapped back, getting fed up of it. They had no right to decide who Frank got to hang out with or not. 

“It is a little annoying.” Ray piped up, looking down at his food, not meeting Frank’s eye. “It’s just…we hardly see you anymore, you know?” Frank softened his tone with Ray. It was impossible _not_ to.

“I’m sorry, I don’t meant to ignore you guys or anything –“

“Then come with us tomorrow, after school. There’s a new band playing a show, we were gonna go tomorrow. Come with us.” Bob raised a brow at Frank as if challenging him. Frank had been planning on seeing Gerard that day…hell, he’d planned on seeing Gerard every day but he couldn't keep blowing off his friends like this. But then again, Gerard was Gerard and that was something completely different than Frank had ever been around before. 

“Tomorrow? Could we maybe –“

“Tomorrow.” Bob pressed, not making anything easy for Frank.

“Jeez, fine! Tomorrow!” Frank hissed, slamming down his fork onto the table. Sometimes having friends sucked.

***

“Are you sure you can’t walk through things?” Frank asked. The boy had brought over a list, _a list_ for crying out loud, full of paranormal things he wanted to check if Gerard could do. Gerard didn’t mind too much though; Frank seemed to get really excited over stuff like this and it was funny to watch.

“I think I would have noticed by now if I could.”

“Well have you _tried?_ ”

“No but –“

“Well then how do you know?”

“Are you asking to me to try it _now_? Are you asking me to walk into a wall just to see if I’ll go through it?”

“Well…if you're willing.” Frank shrugged, but then grinned, letting Gerard know he was joking. “They really trashed this place, huh?” Frank sighed, looking around at the place. There were still empty beer bottles and Halloween candy wrappers littering the place, and one fucker had spray painted a wall with unreadable notions, most likely curse words. Gerard had nothing against graffiti  _if_ it was actually good and creative, not just the scrawling of the intoxicated.

“Yeah…but at least they didn’t touch my clothes or my sketchbook.” Because Gerard had died in those clothes, they'd stayed in the condition they were in that day, which thankfully were clean. That meant he never had to change them, which was good otherwise he didn't know how he would’ve coped for three years. And his sketchbook...well...he had no idea what he'd do if they'd touched his sketchbook. Frank walked over to Gerard, sitting down on the floor and stretching his legs out.

“Have you ever thought about getting in contact with Mikey?” Gerard sat down beside him, leaning back on his elbows.

“Ah, I don’t know. I don’t think it’d be fair on him…I think it’d mess him up a little.” Sure he’d thought about Mikey, a day never went by where he didn’t, but it had probably taken Mikey a while to get over his death, Gerard didn’t need nor want to mess up his brother’s hard work.

“Gerard…do you know who it was? That…did this to you?”

“Not really, everything’s a little hazy.” Gerard had pretty much fallen unconscious as soon as the impact of the car had hit him. What he did remember had been blurry. He vaguely remembered the blurry outline of one of the people in car, either a driver or a passenger, as they came over to Gerard. They hadn’t done anything though. They’d just gotten back into the car and driven away again, leaving Gerard to die. Maybe if they’d stayed, maybe if they’d called an ambulance, Gerard could’ve been saved. But they hadn’t, and Gerard wasn’t and he'd just had to deal with that.

“Hey, Gee?” Frank reached across, taking Gerard’s hand, and Gerard gripped it tightly, liking the support it gave him. “You're okay, right?”

“More than I used to be.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the next chapter kind of finished. I say 'kind of' because there's a part at the end of chapter that I've never written in the style of before so I'm finding it a little difficult and just want to make sure it's not seriously cringey or anything, but not to fear (not to fear? what am I even saying right now) if I don't update tomorrow it'll be the day after.
> 
> So yeah, I hope you liked it again! Though I know this chapter isn't as good as the last one because, well, the last one was my favourite, so it wouldn't be, (okay now I'm just rambling).
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! *leaves before I ramble about so much irrelevant stuff*


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

It was getting late but Frank didn’t want to leave Gerard just yet. Because he wasn’t able to see him tomorrow, and because he had no other way of contacting him, he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible now.

“Do you think maybe you could bring your guitar over one day?” Gerard asked him, his pencil scribbling away in his sketchbook. “You did say maybe.” Frank wasn’t sure. He was a little apprehensive playing for him because he actually cared about Gerard’s opinion of him. He couldn’t bear to hear that he wasn’t good from Gerard. But then again, he could use this as an excuse to see Gerard for a little while tomorrow. He could bring his guitar and drop it off with Gee after school, spending a little time with him before he met Bob and Ray and whoever else was going to the show later on.

“I could bring it over tomorrow, before I go out. You could look after it for the night.”

“What? You mean you’re going to leave it with me?”

“Yeah, why not? I trust you.” Frank stood up, supposing he should leave soon if he wanted to make it home before dark. “You know, you could come along. We could give you a disguise or something, so they wouldn’t recognise you, and it’d be dark in there so no one would notice.”

“I don’t think so…” Frank had known Gerard wasn’t going to agree, but he thought he’d try asking anyway. Gerard was known to be unpredictable at times, so maybe one of these days he’d live up to that and say yes. “Besides, if I went then no one would be here to look after your guitar.” Gerard smiled, lightly punching Frank’s arm.

*

“What’s with the guitar?” Pete asked as he met Frank outside his locker, forcefully shoving his math books in there, slamming the locker door closed before they toppled out again.

“I’m taking it over to Gerard after school.” Frank replied, shrugging on his guitar strap over his shoulder, making his way towards his next period.

“What? Oh, no, dude, come on, you said you’d come to the show tonight with us.” Pete moaned, kicking at Frank’s heels.

“I’m still going with you, I’m just dropping this off with him first.”

“Oh really? And how long is this ‘drop off’ gonna take?”

“Oh come on Pete, don’t be a dick. I’m coming to the show, alright?” Frank assured him, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey!” Pete began, holding up his hands innocently. “I’ve got nothing against this guy, hang out with him as much as you want, but just don’t forget us. Why didn’t you invite him?” He couldn't admit the truth, so he had to lie.

“He’s really…shy. I just don’t think that this show is his kind of scene.” Absolute lie. Gerard would probably _love_ this kind of stuff and it was sad that there were things holding him back…or just _one_ _major_ thing holding him back. “But I’ll be there, alright?”

“Alright.” Pete shrugged simply, “Wanna skip next period with me?”

“What is it?”

“History.”

“Then definitely.” Frank nodded and Pete grinned, grabbing Frank by the collar of his shirt and steering him towards the nearest exit.

*

“Gerard?” Frank called out when he reached the building, stepping inside. Frank couldn’t find him in the parts of the building they usually hung out in, but he could hear voices, and more than one of them. He had no idea who was in here but he didn't want to run into them. They'd probably be asking all sorts of questions as to why he'd wondered in here and who was the person he was shouting for. Frank quickly retreated towards the back part of the building, the part where it became dark and small. “Gerard?” he whispered knowing he’d have to be in the building somewhere. “Gerard!” he hissed a little louder. “Do you know there’s people –“

Suddenly an arm snaked around Frank’s chest, pulling him back into an even smaller space, his back coming up against something firm. He heard something shut and all he could see was darkness.

“What the fuck?!” Frank screeched, fists flailing, trying to attack whatever had dragged him in here.

“Shhh! Shhh, Frank, it’s me!” Gerard’s voice filled his ears and Frank realised he was in a really enclosed space. _Shit._ “The Ghost Hunters crew are back again.” He whispered, practically pressed up against Frank. The small space was suffocating, and having Frank’s guitar in it with them didn’t help. “I don’t know why they’re back, I thought they were done with this place.”

“Can’t we…can’t we hide outside?” Frank asked shakily, trying to control his breathing. “It’s really…cramped…in here.”

“This is the only place I’m certain those people don’t know about, I don’t wanna risk it.”

“Then you’re gonna have to talk to me continuously – take my mind off it or something.” Frank rushed out, his chest rising much quicker than it had been before he’d entered whatever tiny room he was in. He didn’t even want to think about what creatures could be crawling around in here with them both.

“Huh? Frank, do you have claustrophobia?”

“Don’t even say the word! I just – ahhh!” Frank screwed up his eyes, concentrating very hard on not freaking out. “Just start talking!”

“Ah, um, okay, alright, so, you brought your guitar! That’s good; I can’t wait to hear you play something. I love the guitar even though I’m not very good at it, but –“

“Fuck, it’s not working!” Frank cursed, balling up his hands into fists. The sound of several footsteps could be heard only a few meters away from whatever tiny room him and Gerard were crammed into. “Shit! I need – I need something to take my mind off it or I’m gonna start freaking out Gee.”

“Um, alright, what should I talk about?”

“Talking’s not gonna work!” Frank was getting agitated now. Fuck, he really hated cramped spaces.

“Then what should I do?”

“I don’t know!”

“Shhh!”

“Fuck! I need to leave – I – I need to get out of here, _shit._ ”

“No, Frank, you can’t, they’re right there!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t handle this – it’s – I can’t do it!” Frank began to reach out his hands, fumbling for the handle to the door to the exit, when Gerard grabbed his shoulders, spinning him around and pressing his lips to Frank’s.

Frank’s mind didn’t register what was happening at first. He hadn’t kissed Gerard since that night and Gerard hadn’t seemed to make a move to do so either. But Frank supposed that was all void now. As soon as his brain caught up with the situation, he made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, causing Gerard’s mouth to open and allowing Frank to slide in his tongue and, holy fuck, Gerard tasted sweet and sharp and Frank wanted _more._

Pressing into him, Frank began grabbing at Gerard’s shirt, sliding his hands underneath, and even though Gerard didn’t have any body heat, just having the contact was enough to drive Frank wild. Due to getting worked up from before, he was restless, wanting to touch every part of Gerard all at once. Slipping his guitar strap off his shoulder, Frank slid his hands down Gerard’s stomach, all the way past his belly button, savouring the smooth of his skin until he skimmed over his belt, his fingertips lightly brushing over his hipbones. At the touch Gerard gasped into Frank’s mouth, and Frank was so grateful for any self-control he had or else that gasp may have just pushed him over the edge.

Gerard broke the kiss and Frank expressed his dismay with a low growl, his hands gripping Gerard’s hips and bringing them to meet his own.

“We can’t do this,” Gerard rasped, turning his head to the side, away from Frank’s mouth.

“Fuck you, you started it.” Frank keened, nuzzling his nose under Gerard’s chin, nipping gently at the skin before trailing his tongue over each bite to soothe the soft pain. “Do you not want to?” he teased, strategically slipping his knee in between Gerard’s legs, his hands still searching along the waistline of his jeans, playing with the belt.

“That’s not the point.” Gerard pushed back away but didn’t remove Frank’s hands from his belt. “I’m _dead_ , Frank.”

“Don’t make it weird.” Frank didn’t need reminding that he was getting extremely aroused by the dead. What was that, necrophilia? Was it different for this because Gerard wasn't exactly a corpse? Fuck, Frank didn't even want to think about all the names he'd be labelled if people found out that he liked making out with the deceased. 

“My life’s stopped. I can’t hold you back too.”

“Whoa, wait a second, who said anything about holding me back?” Frank frowned, and he probably would’ve stepped back to get a better look at Gerard but was unable to in such a compact area. “I’m _17._ Any plans for my future life can wait so right now you’re not holding me back from anything. And, fuck, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you in a…where even are we?”

“I think it used to be an asylum cell or something.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I’m kidding!” Gerard laughed, and Frank could vaguely see his smile. “I think it was an old storage closet.” He shrugged, tilting his head upwards. “It’s just…Frank, I’m not _going_ anywhere.”

“And neither am I right now!” and then he hushed for a second, checking to see where the men had advanced to in the building. The faint murmurs suggested they were still right outside. “Seriously, we can figure all this stuff out when it becomes a problem, okay? But right now it’s not a problem.” Frank’s eyes had adjusted to the lack of light enough so that he was able to see the features of Gerard’s face. “Right, you dragged me into this ridiculously confined space, _which I hate,_ now the least you could do is make out with me in it.” Frank could faintly make out a small smile creeping onto Gerard’s face and took this as a sign that it was okay for his hands to resume their position on Gerard’s pants.

“But –“

“No.” Frank cut him off, licking his lips and leaning into Gerard. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear about the difficulties of this, or about how it can’t last. I just want you to shut up and kiss me before I start freaking the fuck out in here, got it?” And Frank didn’t even wait for Gerard’s response before he locked their lips together, Frank tracing Gerard’s bottom lip with his tongue before pressing it into Gerard’s mouth, both of them tangling together hard and fast.

In the heat of the moment, Gerard did indeed seem to forget about everything he’d been worrying about, wrapping an arm around Frank’s waist to keep him close as Frank shoved him back into the wall. Their skin was becoming hot and sticky quickly from being so close together in such a restricted space, Frank already beginning to feel the sweat bead along his neckline. Gerard hitched his leg up so that his thigh rubbed against Frank’s crotch, causing Frank to bite down on Gerard’s lip, tugging at it gently.

“Fuck, we need to…we need to stop.” Gerard whispered, trying to move his hips back but coming up against the wall.

“I thought I just said –“

“No, no, it’s not about that. I mean we can’t do this _in here._ ” Frank paused in rocking against Gerard’s hips long enough to actually think about the situation and to realise, actually, he was right. They were in a very small space with God knows what lurking in the corners of it and strange Ghost Hunting men filming outside. This wasn’t as much privacy as Frank would’ve liked now he came to think of it.

“Yeah, no, you’re right.” Frank sighed, stepping back to give Gerard as much space that was possible given the size of the room they were in. “Well I can’t stay in here without some serious distraction so I need to leave, can you still hear them outside?” Both of them stayed silent for a moment, trying to see if they could hear anything.

“I don’t think they’re outside anymore, you might be able to sneak out.”

“What? Not by myself, you’re coming with me.”

“I can’t. They’re probably gonna stay here for a while, if I go outside they might see me.”

“Then come back to mine for a while. My parents aren’t back till tomorrow no one will see you, it’ll be like it was on Halloween night.”

“But haven’t you got that show tonight?” That was true, he did, and his friends were going to be so pissed if Frank bailed on them, but he couldn’t leave Gerard here on his own, and he knew Gerard didn’t _want_ to be left here.

“It’s fine. Come on, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Props to those people that write the smutty parts of fanfiction because fuck it's actually really hard. The next chapter is pretty much all *whispers* sexual, and I'm laughing so hard because it's my first time writing things like this and I actually had to research into it all so it didn't turn out ridiculously cringey. I had to change the rating to 'explicit' so that gives you an idea on how far I had to research. 
> 
> So yes, there may be a slight delay with the next chapter due to this.
> 
> God I hope no one finds my search history...


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV
> 
> WARNING: This chapter is entirely smut (possibly badly written, that's your opinion, don't ask me, I have no idea). If you want the story to stay cute and as non-explicit as possible then just skip this chapter and move to the next one because really this chapter doesn't have much relevance to the plot anyway, it's purely for...whatever type of entertainment gay porn is for.

Gerard felt bad about Frank having to cancel his plans for him, but it was really hard to feel too guilty about it when Frank’s hands were currently roaming the length of his back.

Frank hadn’t even waited 10 seconds before he’d closed the front door to his house and pushed Gerard up against it, rucking up his shirt, putting his guitar down to the side at the same time.

“Shouldn’t we…go to your…room…or something…?” Gerard murmured between kisses, biting down on his lip when Frank’s mouth moved onto his neck. He was struggling to stay standing, his knees beginning to buckle at Frank’s touch. He hadn’t felt like this in, well, ever. Sure he’d done stuff with guys before but it had never been this… _exciting_.

“Think you can make it up there?” Frank teased, pulling back and grinning at Gerard, having noticed his weight swaying slightly. Gerard couldn’t see for himself but he was sure that his cheeks were flaming red right now.

“Of course I can.” He huffed, taking Frank’s hand and tugging him towards the stairs just to prove it.

“No ‘this is wrong, I’m holding you back’ speech?” And now it was Gerard’s turn to look back at Frank and smile mischievously.

“Not right now.”

As soon as they stepped through the threshold of Frank’s room, Gerard grabbed him, pulling him against his chest, their tongues entwining along with their legs as they fell against yet another wall.

“Fuck, Gee…” Frank breathed, hitching up Gerard’s shirt until Gerard understood that Frank wanted him to take it off. He lifted up his arms high enough so that Frank could pull off his shirt over his head, tossing it blindly to the corner of the room, his hands splaying across Gerard’s chest before pressing their lips together again.

Gerard wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, there was just too much of Frank he wanted to explore, too much he craved. He settled on locking them into Frank’s hair, pulling Frank’s head even closer so that their noses were brushing with every tongue flick and lip bite.

Whereas Gerard didn’t know what to do with his hands Frank seemed to know all the right places to put his to get Gerard whimpering. When he let out another groan, Frank slid his mouth downwards so that it was hot and wet on Gerard’s neck, sucking on the taut skin at his throat and Gerard wanted to express how fucking _great_ that felt but his mouth was unable to form any words right now. All it could do was go slack with Frank’s touch.

When Frank moved his hand down to palm Gerard through his jeans, Gerard completely lost any inhibitions he’d had, his own hands untangling themselves from Frank’s hair to seize his belt instead, shoving their hips together.

Frank’s hard on was prominent against Gerard’s thighs and _holy shit_ if things could get even hotter than this then Gerard didn’t think he’d last very long; he could already feel his own erection pushing against the material of his pants. Apparently Frank could feel it too as he looked down at it, his brows knitting into a small frown.

“How are you –“

“No!” Gerard interrupted him before he could even finish asking the question. “No talking about the anatomy of me, how things about me work, no questions, not now. You promised no more ‘science of Gerard’.”

“You’re right, no ‘science of Gerard’.” He agreed, a crooked smile resting on his lips that had become plump and swollen from kissing.

“Good, because I don’t really understand either and it’s just better if–“

“Gerard?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” Gerard complied happily, bunching up the hem of Frank’s shirt, pulling it over his head and letting it drop to the floor in a heap along with his. The heat he felt from Frank’s skin burned through Gerard, consuming him with a type of pleasure that was almost torturous. He wasn’t sure what Frank felt from him, whether it was as intense as what Gerard felt or if he even felt anything at all, but Frank didn’t seem to be complaining. Driven by the intense need to just keep touching Frank, he surged forward suddenly, causing Frank to stumble backwards until his legs hit the bed, both of them collapsing onto the mattress. Gerard didn’t even give Frank much time to lay down and get comfy before he began undoing the buckle on his belt, sliding it free and pulling down the fly, yanking the jeans down, Frank raising his hips to make it easier.

And then Frank’s pants were off and  _yes,_ more heat from his skin and Gerard just couldn’t get enough of it. He’d never been so confident about his actions before and it scared him a little at where it was all coming from, but at the same time he liked it. He couldn’t think back to a time when he’d felt even half as assertive as this.

“Wait, wait!” Frank breathed as Gerard slid a finger under the waistband of Frank’s underwear.

“What?” Gerard paused, worried that maybe he was going to fast, that maybe Frank didn’t want this after all, that maybe Frank had come to his senses more than Gerard had, or was ever going to at the moment.

“Get even.” He smirked, looking down at Gerard’s pants. Before Gerard could click in his mind what Frank was implying, Frank had sat up, his hands unfastening Gerard’s own belt and buttons surprisingly fast, tugging the fabric past his hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh deliberately.

Gerard didn’t usually feel comfortable being so bare. He was slightly chubby around his stomach, which he’d always been self-conscious of. He wasn’t _fat_ or anything; he just wasn’t exactly Mr. Muscle either. But with Frank he didn’t seem to dwell on any of those imperfections. In fact, he didn’t feel ashamed or uneasy at all and the fact that Frank had this effect on him must’ve meant that there was something right in what they were doing. And that gave Gerard all the reassurance he needed right now.

Kicking his pants off, he smashed his lips against Franks, their teeth clicking painfully but neither one of them pulling away. Gerard let his hands wander across Frank, his lower back and his sides, before bringing them around to his stomach, Frank returning with an appreciative noise as Gerard rocked down on him simultaneously. He wasn’t sure if it was because of Gerard’s ‘condition’ or whether Frank just had a ridiculously high body temperature but the warmth was scorching and Gerard couldn’t get enough of it. It wasn’t just like normal body heat however; it was something else, something that seared through his flesh causing his blood roar in his ears. Wanting more, he pushed Frank back by his shoulders so they were both laying down, Gerard slipping down even further, his cheek grazing down Frank’s chest, grinning in pleasure at how the heat made him feel. When he reached Frank’s hipbones he darted out his tongue along the stretched skin, eliciting a moan from Frank and a purr from Gerard, his head having become dizzy with the actions.

Seeing as he was down there he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try. He hadn’t given one in a long fucking time but that shouldn’t make a difference to his performance.

He stroked the outline of Frank’s dick through the cotton, smiling at how the gesture caused Frank’s hips to buck, and Frank didn’t seem to care that he was slowly becoming so undone, his cheeks flushed, his lips wet. He maneuvered the waistband over Frank’s cock, removing it slowly, teasing. He only managed half way before Frank’s hands shot down, shoving off the rest of the material in an impatient flurry.

Lowering his head, Gerard flicked his tongue along Frank’s inner thighs, painting Frank’s skin with it, trailing it dangerously close to where Frank wanted it be, before retreating back again, enjoying the shivers it created in Frank’s body.

“Please…” Frank begged, his hands screwed up in the bed sheets already. “ _Fuck,_ Gerard, _please,”_ he repeated through gritted teeth, and when Frank was like this Gerard couldn’t do anything but obey.

As Gerard drew a smooth line along the dick with his tongue, Frank inhaled sharply as if not expecting the contact. The skin was salty as Gerard ran his tongue along the slit before sucking the head into his mouth, savouring the taste, the heat, the intensity of the atmosphere.

Frank buried his hands in Gerard’s hair, his hips squirming as Gerard ran his tongue along the underside of Frank’s dick before pulling back, looking up through heavy lids. “Oh my God,” Frank groaned, staring down at Gerard with dark, hungry eyes.

“You can thrust if you want. It’s okay; I can take it.” The corner of his mouth quirked up just at the thought of it. “I want you to.” Frank was hesitant at first, but as soon as Gerard reached his hands around the curve of Frank’s ass, pushing up Frank’s hips as he slicked up his lips and wrapped them around Frank’s cock, hollowing out his cheeks, Frank began to fuck his mouth, panting heavily, his fingers tightening in Gerard’s hair and Gerard relaxed his throat to take it all, humming lightly and giving Frank’s bare cheeks a squeeze, causing Frank’s hips to thrust up harder. Gerard loved it, the slight ache in his jaw as his lips were stretched further; his mouth wet and hot.

“Oh, fuck, yes, Gerard, fucking _yes,_ ” Frank grunted, pulling on Gerard’s hair, which was a little painful but Gerard was too turned on himself to care.

Gerard smiled, secretly pleased with himself, and felt Frank shudder beneath him as his dick hit the back of Gerard’s throat.

“Fuck, Gerard, Jesus, just like that, _fucking Christ_ , I’m gonna – Gee – “ It only took a few more tongue strokes from Gerard’s end before he felt Frank’s cock begin to throb and then he was spilling out into Gerard’s mouth, tasting sweet and warm, a long low moan filling the air. Swallowing around it before he pulled off, Gerard licked his reddened lips, grinning up at a spent looking Frank. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck Gerard? That was, _wow,_ that was…” Frank didn’t even finish his sentence and instead just looked over at Gerard, a lazy smile on his face.

Before Gerard could even shift to a position where his boner would be less of a distraction, Frank licked his hand, running his palm over the length of his tongue, reaching over and shoving it down Gerard’s boxers, fisting around his cock, slick and wet from Frank’s spit, evoking a sound of surprise and ecstasy.

Gerard opened his mouth to be polite, to tell Frank he didn’t have to reciprocate, but all that came out was a rush of strangled air and a desperate keening moan because _mother of God,_ that felt fucking _amazing._ Frank didn’t waste time in teasing Gerard, getting him to beg, most likely because Gerard was practically already pleading, which he was most likely going to be embarrassed about afterwards, but right now he couldn’t care, he was too far gone to care.

Frank’s grip was firm, tight enough without being too much, his strokes having already reached a more than satisfying rhythm, and Gerard arched his back, his hips rolling up into Frank’s hand, his eyelids fluttering.

“Tell me how it feels,” Frank cooed against Gerard’s ear, his breath tickling him. “Tell me you like it.” And Gerard had to fight really hard to talk because – fuck, finding words was a serious task when he was in this state.

“I – _fuck Frank_ – I – don’t stop – just _don’t fucking stop_ …” was all he could manage as he squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing fistfuls of the bed covers for some form of self-control.

“You fucking _love_ it.” And he didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Frank would be smirking proudly like the asshole he was, acting as if he hadn’t just been in the same state not that long ago. Gerard opened his mouth to let out another guttural moan, but he was cut off by Frank’s own, his tongue swirling, searching for Gerard’s and when Gerard gave it to him Frank began sucking on it, which only caused Gerard to writhe even harder, arching into Frank’s mouth. He knew we was not going to last long at all.

Frank’s strokes began to pick up speed and Gerard bit down on Frank’s lip, sucking the plump bottom one into his mouth before pressing his teeth into it again. He’d lost control of his hips by now, rocking up into Frank’s grip, wanting the pressure, the friction, _needing_ it. Frank squeezed, his thumb hitting the sensitive spot against the cockhead before flicking his thumbnail under it and Gerard had to break the kiss, gasping for air he didn’t even need, his spine melting with each jolt of pleasure that shot up through it.

Frank whispered something in Gerard’s ear, muttering something along the lines of ‘fuck you’re so hot’ or ‘fuck I want you so bad’ but it was hard to tell because Gerard was long gone and the sound of Frank’s husked voice against his skin was all that was needed to push him over the edge, letting out an almost shrieking moan as his body convulsed, knees shaking, dissolving into pleasure, shooting his release all over Frank’s hand.

When Gerard found the energy to open his eyes again, though his vision a little hazy he could see Frank was still staring at him, grinning, looking pretty damned pleased with himself and Gerard would have probably rolled his eyes if he’d had any energy left. Frank reached across to his bedside table, opening a draw and pulling out a wad of tissues, wiping off Gerard’s come before tossing it into the nearby trashcan.

“Where the hell did you find the energy to do that?” Gerard marvelled as Frank laid his head down to rest on Gerard’s chest. The boy held too much energy for someone who’d just gotten off themselves.

“It’s a gift and a curse.” He giggled, sighing contentedly. “This was way better than what I had planned for tonight.” And Gerard wrapped an arm around Frank in return. Frank wouldn’t know how good that made him feel. Frank was saying that he preferred spending time with Gerard, someone whose life was over, than with the people whose lives were still going, who could offer Frank more. Still, Gerard couldn’t understand why Frank had chosen him. He came with so many complications he sometimes just didn’t think he was worth it. Gerard hadn’t even begun to list the issues with this relationship yet, and to be honest he was too scared too. “Gerard, whatever you’re thinking about so hard, just stop. It’s not worth it.”

Gerard wished it were that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was my first time writing something like this and I was really nervous about posting it but then I thought, fuck it. I've never done it before, if I was ever going to do it now is my chance. So here we are.
> 
> I was going to add more because I thought it was moving too fast, but I ended up just bulking it out with crap so I scrapped that idea, which will explain if things skip to the next part really quickly.
> 
> If it's really bad and cringey I apologise but what can you expect from a first timer, really. 
> 
> And even if I'm not skilled at writing about it I am probably now very skilled at gay sexual activities due to all the research and reading I had to do, so who really came out on top here? (humour)
> 
> Oh...am I gonna regret this? We'll see.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Frank woke up to Gerard prodding him in his side, and not by something he would have much preferred to wake up to. He groaned, pushing his hips back into Gerard to warn him to stop.

“Frankie,” Gerard whispered, continuing to prod him. “Frankie,” Frank waved his arm limply over his shoulder to get Gerard to stop talking and to let him sleep. “Frank? Frankie,”

“Jesus, what? What?”

“It’s almost 8 o’clock.”

“And?”

“You’re…you’re gonna be late for school.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Frank was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to yell. He sat up a little, turning around to face Gerard, a bemused expression on his face. “You woke me up for _school_? You fucker!” He cried, trying very hard not to grab his pillow and hit Gerard with it.

“What? I thought you might want to –“

“Go to school? God, you’re such a loser.” But then he laughed, shaking his head slightly before laying it back down against the pillow, just smiling at Gerard.

“So…you’re not going?”

“I’m not just gonna leave you alone after yesterday, asshole.”

“But…I thought you said your parents were home today?”

“Yeah, but not till the evening.”

“So…?”

“So that means we have the whole day, _loser._ ” Frank grinned before closing his eyes again. “Now let me sleep for at least another hour.”

*

Gerard did let Frank sleep, for three more hours actually, which Frank was very grateful for, as he wasn’t the friendliest person when he was tired. Gerard was still lay beside him when he woke, just staring at Frank.

“Do you just watch me sleep?” Frank asked, yawning, reaching his arms above his head to stretch out.

“Is that weird?” It would’ve been if it were anyone except Gerard.

“No, no it’s not weird.” Frank smiled, realising that deciding to stay with Gerard yesterday was one of the best decisions he’d ever made. His friends were gonna be so pissed off at Frank, but right now, laying beside Gerard, Frank found it hard to care. “So what do you want to do today?” Frank asked, deciding to be nice and give Gerard the option of choosing.

“I really would like to hear you play.”

“What, now?”

“Well, whenever you’re ready.” Gerard shrugged, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

“Alright, okay, I need to get dressed and stuff…actually I should probably have a shower too,” he thought back to what they’d done yesterday and decided that he definitely needed a shower.

***

“Just don’t laugh or anything, okay?”

“Frank, why would I laugh?”

“If I’m awful or something.” Frank shrugged, stood holding his guitar with his fingers on the frets ready to play. Frank’s main problem he had shouldn’t be whether Gerard would like it or not, it should be about Gerard actually paying attention. Frank’s hair was still slightly damp from his shower, sticking to his cheeks, and his version of ‘getting dressed’ wasn’t quite what Gerard had been expecting. He was currently wearing a pair of loose boxer shorts and a very oversized shirt that hung off his left shoulder revealing the pale skin of his collarbone. Gerard didn’t know where to look. Gerard had showered too but he never looked that great.

“You’re not going to be awful.” Gerard rolled his eyes. He was currently sat cross-legged on the floor of Frank’s room, waiting for him to play.

“You don’t know that. You might hate it.”

“Jesus, well at this rate I’m never going to find out so just play already!” Frank flipped Gerard off but had a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his hands resuming their position on the instrument.

And then he began to play.

Gerard hadn’t really known what to expect. He supposed he’d just thought Frank would strum a few notes, it would be alright and that was it, but it turned out completely differently. Frank’s playing was…beautiful. Not beautiful in a classic way, but beautiful in a loud rock way. It wasn’t just the sound he was making either, it was the way he played, the movements he made. He closed his eyes while playing, which Gerard thought was skilled enough because if it were him he’d definitely have to look at where his fingers were going.

Gerard’s stomach twisted at the way Frank bit down on his lip, at the way he hunched over slightly when strumming the higher notes. Gerard didn’t recognise the song and thought that maybe it was something Frank had written himself. Either way it was brilliant. When Frank had finished playing his piece, Gerard’s jaw was nearly on the floor. When Frank opened his eyes he didn’t look at Gerard but instead looked away, almost _shy,_ but that couldn’t be possible because Frank was one of the most confident people Gerard had ever met.

“Jesus, Frank, you’ve kept that quiet.”

“Huh?”

“You’re fucking amazing!” Gerard exclaimed, rocking back for emphasis.

“Really?”

“Don’t tell me you can’t hear how awesome you sound when you play?” Gerard raised a brow, feeling a slight buzz from Frank’s music. “You’re extraordinary and I’m not just saying that, even _watching_ you play it’s…it’s pretty hot…” and then Gerard had to turn away, feeling his cheeks begin to flare. He wasn’t used to being so direct about things.

“Really? Wow…thanks Gee.” Frank beamed, removing the guitar strap from across his chest and coming over to kneel in front of Gerard, his eyes bright. “So I looked hot, you say?” He began, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

“Shut up.” Gerard mumbled in reply, because he couldn’t exactly deny it. “Seriously though, you’re really good. You could go somewhere with this.”

“Eh, maybe. I just don’t want it to turn into work, you know?” Gerard nodded, pulling Frank’s borrowed t-shirt over his knees self-consciously. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.”

*

Frank had done a quick change and packed a backpack with items Gerard was unaware of, leading the both of them back to the building they had come to know so well now.

“I got given all this art stuff ages ago as a present,” Frank began, pulling out acrylics and paintbrushes and pastels and charcoals and all sorts of different supplies. “I’ve never used them and probably never will, so…” once he’d emptied out the contents of his rucksack he stood up, turning to Gerard with a lopsided grin. “I thought maybe you could use them to, you know, do something like some sort of mural here, to leave your mark.” Frank shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, maybe the idea’s kinda lame but –“

Gerard cut off Frank with a hug, pulling him in tightly against his chest. It was nice, really nice of Frank. It meant a lot that Frank did this. Everyone had sort of forgotten about Gerard after a while. He didn’t have anything for anyone to remember him by, to think about him when they looked at it. This could be that thing. Frank hadn’t just given him the idea and paint supplies, he’d given him the opportunity to become a memory rather than just a passing thought. And Gerard was so much more than just grateful for that.

“Thank you, Frankie. This means a lot.” He whispered, pressing his lips against Frank’s temple before pulling away, standing back to look at the blank wall that was going to be his. They’d picked the cleanest one, the one that was covered in the least amount of questionable stains and years old moss.

The wall was big, really big, so Gerard couldn’t really draw anything on it without giving it a background first. Ideally he’d like for it to be black. Black was usually hard to draw on in the aspect of getting other colours to stand out against it, but Gerard had an idea in mind. He looked down at the paints Frank had brought and saw that there was actually a lot of black paint, enough to at least cover the wall in one layer. There didn’t look to be any paintbrushes big enough so he’d have to improvise, and he could use Frank’s help for that.

“Pass me a bottle of the black.” He asked, holding his hands open to catch it as Frank tossed it to him. “Hands please.” Confused, Frank held open his hands to Gerard, palms up. Before Frank could register what Gerard was doing, he popped the cap on the large bottle of paint and squirted it into Frank’s hands.

“What the hell?” Frank cringed, stepping away, keeping his arms outstretched so that the colour didn’t splash onto his clothes. Gerard just smiled before pouring some on the paint onto his own hands.

“Paint away.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna need help giving the wall a base colour first.”

“But with our _hands?_ ”

“Yeah. What, I thought you’d be all for getting down and dirty?” Gerard teased, watching Frank narrow his eyes at the comment.

“You mean like this?” Frank smushed his hands together, rubbing in the paint before stepping forward, reaching a hand out and smearing it across Gerard’s chest. The contrast of Frank’s warmth and the cold of the paint was strange and caused Gerard to choke slightly at the sensation. Frank nodded his head, a shit-eating grin on his face, looking particularly pleased with himself at having proven some sort of point.

“You know this is your shirt, right?” Gerard had a smile on his face just as big as Frank’s, swiping out his hand anyhow, his palm slapping against Frank’s cheek, the paint splattering across his face. Frank looked momentarily shocked as if unsure what to be more surprised about: the fact that Gerard had just hit him, that fact that he’d done it with a pool of paint in his hand or the fact that he’d actually just got paint on his own shirt. Gerard didn’t even have time to blink before Frank pounced at him, both of them falling to the floor in a blur of black paint and pale flesh.

Both of them began wiping their paint-coated hands on each other, laughing and trying to dodge each other’s flailing hands. One of Frank’s hands caught Gerard on the face, sliding down, the paint rubbing off on his mouth. Gerard stuck his tongue out in a grimace, which was a bad fucking idea because Frank was an asshole and as soon as he saw the opportunity he took it, wiping his palm down the length of Gerard’s tongue, varnishing it with the black pigment.

In horror he turned his head to the side, coughing and spluttering, shoving both of his hands in Frank’s face, smearing it in the colour. When their hands began to dry, the paint cracking, Frank reached behind, grabbing the bottle and flipping the lip, about to pour it all over the both of them most likely before Gerard remembered what they were supposed to be painting.

“Stop! The wall! Put it on the wall, fucker!” he pushed Frank off him, standing up from the ground, the two of them exchanging broad smiles before they began streaking the wall with the paint instead. It was messy and smudged and chaotic and Gerard _loved_ it. It was exactly what he wanted, maybe even better. They were jumping up to reach the high parts of the wall, bumping into each other on the fall back down. He was so taken with the strokes, the angles, so engrossed, that he didn’t notice Frank sneak up behind him, didn’t notice his arms snake out and spin Gerard around and Gerard still didn’t comprehend it when Frank had pressed up against him.

“Having fun?” he smirked, sandwiching Gerard in between the wall and his body.

“So much,” Gerard grinned back, meaning each word too. “You?”

“Oh I’m having fun,” Frank whispered, leaning in close and Gerard closed the gap, covering Frank’s mouth with his in a kiss. Their kissing seemed to have two extremes, soft and gentle or urgent and heated. There was no in between, no just okay or satisfactory, and Gerard liked that about the two of them. Two extremes. Gerard’s back was beginning to stick to the wall, drying to the paint, but he didn’t care. He was far too happy to care. He’d promised Frank he wouldn’t think of any of the complications of what they were doing, and he was going to stick to that promise because he liked this too. Really liked this. In fact, he loved it.

“You’re getting paint in my mouth.” Frank broke the kiss, recoiling backwards but not even by half an inch, still co close that Gerard could feel Frank’s breath against his cheek.

“Well whose fault is that?” Gerard quipped back, darting his tongue out to trace the line of Frank’s jaw, seeing just how much paint came off. Frank faked being grossed out, but it didn’t last long before he was grinning again.

“I’m not sure how you wanted it to turn out but I’m certain we wont be hired as interior decorators anytime soon.” Frank pulled back, looking up at the wall at his and Gerard’s handy work. Gerard turned around, stepping back so he was in line with Frank, seeing what he was seeing. “You didn’t have any aspirations to be one, did you?” he joked.

“It wasn’t supposed to be perfect, but it is. Its imperfections are what’s perfect about it.”

“I like it when you talk like that.” Frank smiled to himself and Gerard suspected that he’d said it more as a thought out loud, but before he could question it Frank leant into Gerard, looking at the smeary black wall. “So what you gonna draw on it?”

“I’ve got a few ideas.” He mused, resting his head on Frank’s shoulder, a little awkwardly seeing as Frank was significantly shorter than him, but Gerard didn’t mind.

“You gonna share?”

“I think I’m gonna keep it a surprise.” He hummed, knowing exactly what he wanted to do.

“What? Oh come on, you can’t do that!” he protested, elbowing Gerard in the side gently. “So did I just come here to get covered in paint?”

“Pretty much.” Gerard grinned, reaching down to grab Frank’s hand. “You know – “

“Iero! We knew you’d be here!” Gerard tensed at the unfamiliar voice coming up behind them, sounding angry. He heard Frank curse under his breath and Gerard dropped his hand as if it was on fire, turning around, about to run and hide but freezing in his step when he caught sight of who it was that had entered the building. Three people had entered but Gerard definitely recognised one of them. He remembered that face, that figure.

That had been the last face he’d seen before his heart had stopped.

“It was you.” The words left Gerard’s mouth before he could stop them. He didn’t want to stop them; in fact he wanted to yell at them. “It was you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this chapter, mainly just because the painting part was fun to write about
> 
> The ending is quite blunt because I couldn't go into too much detail without repeating everything I wanted to go in the next chapter, so I'm sorry about that
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Frank couldn’t believe that his friends had actually come looking for him. They could have waited until Frank went into school the next day. He also couldn’t believe Gerard had spoken to them, been so outright to them too. Well first he couldn’t actually understand what Gerard meant by it. He’d thought Gerard would have run and hid but instead his eyes had turned cold and he was stepping forward, his gaze focused on Bob.

“It was you.” He repeated for the third time, his hands having clenched into fists by his sides.

“Gerard…?” Frank reached out his hand, touching Gerard’s arm, but got no response.

“Gerard?” Ray questioned, piping up, sending a puzzled look to Frank before his eyes widened. “You don’t mean…oh shit…”

“It was fucking you!” Gerard exploded, clenching his teeth together and glaring at Bob.

Bob was just frozen to the spot, any anger he’d had for Frank was gone, and now he just looked…scared. And now that Frank paid attention, Pete and Ray were exchanging looks too, nervous ones.

“You're – you're –you're supposed –“ Bob stuttered.

“Supposed to be fucking dead, I know!” Gerard laughed, but it wasn’t a natural laugh, it was a cold, harsh, venomous laugh.

“Frank, what the fuck is this?” Bob finally pulled himself together enough to form a sentence, but now Frank was the one left speechless. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on himself. His mind still hadn’t fully clicked over what Gerard was actually accusing his friend of.

“You know what this fucking is!” Gerard wasn’t done, nowhere near. “You – you – you _killed_ me.”

And then it hit Frank.

Bob was the one that had hit Gerard, the one that had ended his life. It hadn’t been some stranger, some reckless drunken teenager or some idiot on their phone not paying attention; it had been Frank’s _friend_.

“You ended my life! And the thing is, you – you came out to _see_ me, to _see_ the damage you’d done, and then you left again. You fucking _left._ I was still _breathing_ and you _left!_ ”

“We thought someone else would find you!” Bob tried to defend himself, his hands beginning to shake.

“ _We?_ ” Gerard questioned, and then Frank realised what the looks that Ray and Pete had been exchanging were about and, _oh God_ , he couldn’t believe this. “All of you were in on it? Ray?” Because Gerard remembered Ray, had known Ray, and now his eyes filled with pain. “I can’t believe you’re the reason my life ended, _you’re_ the reason I left with my brother mad at me…”

“But we didn’t kill you! You’re not dead!” Ray tried to justify it, tried to make the situation a little better but none of them realised that Gerard _was_ dead and that this situation could not, in any way possible, be made better. This was just about as bad as it could get.

"Gee…” Frank reached out to Gerard, not sure what to say. He was just as shocked, even more so when Gerard flinched away, turning on Frank with a snarl.

“Don’t touch me!” he cried, recoiling back from Frank’s touch, and Frank didn’t know what to do. “I can’t believe you!” he pointed a finger at Frank, his eyes wide and sad.

“What? Gerard – I didn’t –“ his words tumbled out over one another, unable to form a complete sentence.

“I can’t believe I fucking trusted you!” Frank was horrified now. Gerard thought he _knew_ about this, had something to _do_ with this? “The entire time you acted like you _cared_ , when really you were just trying to make yourself feel better about it!” Frank didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

“No! I didn’t know anything, I swear Gee –“

“Don’t call me that!” he grinded out through his teeth, screwing his hands into his hair angrily. Frank tried stepping forward again, desperate to get Gerard to believe him; _needing_ Gerard to believe him. “Don’t come near me!” he yelled, stepping back even further. “Don’t you _dare_ come near me again!” And Frank felt his heart shatter at that moment. He became numb all over, his mouth dry, the air catching in his throat. He couldn’t get any words out as he watched Gerard walk off into another part of the building, and Frank knew that if Gerard didn’t want to be found then he wouldn’t be found. All he could do was stare silently after him.

There was a long stretch of silence and Frank didn’t have any intention of breaking it until he remembered what the three other people in the room had done.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” it came out as barely a whisper but they could hear it, Frank was sure.

“Frank…” Ray began but even his soft tone couldn’t calm him down.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he repeated much louder this time, causing Ray to flinch slightly.

“Don’t act innocent in this, why didn’t you tell _us_?” Bob accused, looking just as angry.

“Excuse me?” Frank had no idea what Bob had to be angry about.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone that he was still alive?” Frank didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know whether he should tell them that Gerard _wasn’t_ alive, not really. They probably wouldn’t believe him if he said it anyway. But Bob couldn’t turn this around on Frank, not after he’d been the one that had killed him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d hit him with a fucking car! Jesus, Bob! You weren’t even old enough to _drive_ three years ago, what the fuck were you doing?!” Frank raged at him, still trying to process the situation.

“It wasn’t our fault…” Pete began, reminding Frank that they had been involved too.

“Well it wasn’t fucking his fault! What? Did he just happen to get in the way of your car in the middle of your underage driving spree?!”

“So you’re defending a guy you hardly know over your own friends?” And then Frank completely lost it. How could any of them try to turn the situation around and off them when they were the ones that had caused it?

Usually Bob would have been able to defend himself, had he seen it coming. But Frank had barely even known he was going to do it before he’d just formed a fist and swung, his knuckles coming into contact with Bob’s jaw. It wasn’t the best punch he’d thrown but it was powerful enough to send Bob stumbling.

He ignored the dull throbbing radiating through his wrist, trying to control the anger bubbling through him.

“Frank –“ Ray tried but Frank was too angry to even think about listening to what they had to say.

“No! Don’t ever talk to me again!” he paraphrased Gerard’s words, pushing past the three of them and storming out of the building.

Frank didn’t know where it went wrong. One second he’d been painting with Gerard, taking part in one of Gerard’s favourite things, and now…now Gerard hated him. He was still covered in the black paint, it having dried and begun to crack uncomfortably. Before he’d wanted to stay covered in the dye forever, not caring who saw him in it. But now…now he just felt embarrassed and stupid.

He could already feel his eyes begin to sting, but he bit down hard on his lip. Fuck, he wasn’t going to cry, not in fucking public where everyone could see him.

His parents were already back when he arrived home, his mom preparing dinner for another silent meal. Frank wasn’t hungry. Not even a little bit. He didn’t bother greeting either of them, didn’t stop and turn around when his dad began demanding why he was covered in paint. He just went straight up to his room, slamming his door behind him, giving it a frustrated kick just for good measure.

Everything had gone from bliss to being fucked up in a matter of minutes. Not satisfied with the first kick he’d given out, he gave the door another one, and two punches.

 _Fuck_ , he was so fucking _angry._ And he wasn’t really sure who with. He was definitely angry with his so-called friends for fucking everything up in the first place, for not telling him what they’d done, for ruining what he’d had with Gerard. He was angry with Gerard a little bit, for not believing Frank, for hating Frank, and he was angry with himself…just…because.

Then he couldn’t help it. He began to cry. They were tears of aggravation and resentment and bitterness and every other feeling he was experiencing right now. He rested his back against the door before sliding down it, pulling his knees up to his chest and just feeling…lost.

He stayed there for a while, sat on his floor just feeling like shit. He sat there for hours, not moving, desperately trying not to think. When a couple hours had passed Frank pulled himself up off the floor, trudging over to his bed, not bothering to shower or to change, just collapsing onto the sheets, exhausted. Frank realised what a bad idea that had been, as he hadn’t changed the sheets from yesterday so they were still sticky and gross and smelt like Gerard, and Frank loved it and hated it at the same time.

He already missed Gerard. It had only been a few hours and he was pining for him.

Fuck, he was so weak, and he hated himself for it.

*

Frank’s mom was shaking his shoulder, jerking him awake. He’d been secretly hoping that maybe he wouldn’t wake up, ever. He was feeling so sorry for himself that he didn’t want to.

“Frank! You’re going to be late for school! And you’re covered in paint! Get showered!”

“I’m not going.” He grumbled, tightening the covers around himself, inhaling whatever was left of Gerard’s scent. He was planning on never going anywhere again. He’d drop out of school; start life as a dropout. Anything was a better idea than going to school anyhow.

“What do you mean you’re not going?” His mom demanded, yanking on the sheets but Frank’s grip was tight, the fabric unmoving. “Frank!”

“I _mean_ I’m not fucking _going_.”

“Language!” she scolded as if she hadn’t heard it from Frank’s mouth a thousand times before. “And you’re  _going_ . Your grades are already low enough!” Frank gritted his teeth, choking back any insults he had ready to fire just to try and get her to back off. “Frank Iero! Get your ass out of bed  _now._ You’re making me late for work!”

“Then fucking go to work! I told you already, I’m not going!” he growled, pulling the covers so tight that it made it difficult for him to breathe. Finally his mom heaved a sighed before letting go of the sheets, stomping out of the room muttering angrily under her breath and slamming his door shut.

And then he was left alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slightly longer delay than usual, it's because this chapter isn't one of my best and I just kept messing with it too much before I eventually got the idea just to leave it alone and move on.
> 
> The next part is almost ready to go and if I have time tomorrow I'll update but I'm working all day so I may not be able to.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Even after he’d after heard all four of them leave Gerard still hadn’t left his hiding spot, in the dark. He didn’t want to. He was too angry, too upset. He’d never thought he’d ever meet the person that did this to him and when he had he really hadn’t expected it to be one of Frank’s friends. Frank had probably known, had probably known all along once he’d realised that Gerard was dead, and had probably only hung out with Gerard, did everything he had done with Gerard just as some form of clearing his conscience, to rid himself of any guilt he may have had over it.

Gerard was livid. He was so angry at himself at having trusted Frank so easily, at having let himself fall for Frank so easily. He was so stupid.

He still had paint all over him, it having become uncomfortable now that it had dried and fractured. He was still wearing Frank’s clothes and he’d left his own at Frank’s house, which he hated himself for even more because now these clothes were going to end up smelling really bad, really quickly, and he didn’t have any way of washing them.

He hadn’t let himself cry over it, he’d been too angry anyway. But the problem was he didn’t know what to do with all this anger. He needed to vent it out somehow. But even if he could talk to someone about it he knew that wouldn’t make him feel better. What would make him feel better would be if they knew how he felt, if they could feel what he felt, if he caused them what they’d caused him and Mikey. He wanted revenge. But he didn’t know how he could do that. He’d never really had to before; he’d never really thought about having to, until now.

***

Frank had been able to hide in his bed for three whole days before his mom had completely put her foot down. In those three days he literally had not left his bed. He hadn’t eaten anything, only taking sips from a water bottle he’d left on his tableside a while ago. He was weak and moody and really wasn’t planning on doing _anything_ for the rest of his life. But on the fourth day he’d lost.

“I mean it Frank, if you don’t get out of bed and rejoin society I am taking away that guitar.” His mom had threatened him. “And you won’t be getting it back.”

What was Frank supposed to do? That guitar was the only good thing he had going for him now and he definitely couldn’t lose that too. So he’d reluctantly, _very reluctantly,_ pushed the covers off him (that _Jesus_ , _really_ needed a wash now) and forced himself out of the bed. His clothes had become stiff from all the dried paint, making it difficult to move his limbs, but he managed it, trudging his way to the bathroom and turning on the shower.

He had to admit, the hot clean water felt good running down his back after spending three days covered in paint without showering. The paint didn’t come off easy, it was as if it had somehow bound itself to become a part of Frank’s skin. He scrubbed and scrubbed until the water stopped running black and began running clear.

He stayed under the running water for a little while longer, as is it could wash away his anger and sadness too, but needless to say, it didn’t work.

He begrudgingly got dressed, pulling on his jeans with the infamous hole in the knees where he’d kept on pulling at the loose thread, and a Black Flags t-shirt he’d got a while ago at one of their shows. His mom didn’t offer him a lift this time but he wasn’t going to accept it anyway. He wanted to be alone as much as possible.

*

He’d avoided Bob, Ray and Pete all day. When lunch came around he didn’t go outside to eat where he knew they’d be waiting for him, instead he’d asked Mrs. Thornman if he could stay behind to catch up on the history work he’d missed out on. She had known something was up because one: Frank hated history, and two: even if he did enjoy the lesson he never asked for extra work, but she didn’t mention anything, only raising a brow in speculation.

The work was boring, as Frank had predicted, and he wasn’t really concentrating on it, but no one else was allowed in the room unless they were working too so Frank could be sure that he wouldn’t bump into his ‘friends’ here. The work was monotonous and painful, Mrs. Thornman having just giving information for Frank to sort into timelines and sources to analyse. It made him remember why he hated history.

Frank was so thankful when lunch came to an end and he made his way to his last period, math, which he shared with Ray so he sat at the complete opposite end to the room as him to avoid any conversation. When the hour of algebraic equations he could never understand was over, he bolted out of there, grabbing his backpack and practically running home before Bob, Ray or Pete could stop him.

He didn’t even glance at the building Gerard would be hiding in knowing that there was no point. He needed a better reason to go in there because Gerard wouldn’t just willingly talk to Frank anymore. Frank wouldn’t be surprised if Gerard had found a way to pull some paranormal shit so that Frank _couldn’t_ enter the building anymore. He really needed an excuse to go back there, and that was when he remembered that Gerard’s clothes were still at his place _Yes!_ He had to take them back to Gerard and Gerard _had_ to accept them because the ones he were wearing were still covered in paint and most likely smelt pretty bad by now.

At this idea Frank ran the rest of the way home, only stopping for a maximum of maybe 15 seconds to run upstairs and grab Gerard’s clothes before running back out again.

He was a sweaty mess by the time he made it back to the building, but he didn’t care. He just hoped, fucking _prayed,_ that he would see Gerard this way, have a chance to actually talk to him, to explain that he really hadn’t known anything about the whole thing at all. He stepped into the building; it’s emptiness seeming eerie now. Gerard wasn’t sat in the hallway they had spent their time talking, but Frank had expected that. He passed the wall they’d had so much fun painting, it still black and smudged, the paints and equipment lay carelessly where Frank had left them. It shouldn’t have upset Frank. It’s not like Gerard would’ve carried on drawing happily once they’d left, but he thought maybe Gerard would’ve done _something_ with them, even a drawing to spite Frank.

He decided to check the tiny room he’d been pressed up in with Gerard, but no such luck. He supposed it was a bit of a long shot anyway. In the end he had no other option but to call out for Gerard and hope for a reply. The place was too big and had too many places for Gerard to hide for Frank to just find him so easily.

“Gerard!” He called out, his voice bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout the building, meaning that Gerard would be sure to hear it. “Gerard!” He waited a while, letting a couple minutes pass, but there was no reply, no sound, nothing. “Gerard! I brought – I’ve brought your clothes back!”

Silence.

“Do you – do you want me to…where do you want me to put them?”

Silence.

“Okay…okay! I’m – I’m gonna leave them here, by the wall! Okay?” He placed Gerard’s clothes down beside the pots of paints and chalks and whatever else it was Frank had brought. “Okay! Okay…I left them there!” He stepped back, looking up at the wall. He probably should’ve made a note or something explaining everything so he could have left it with the clothes so that way Gerard would be sure to read it. He really wanted to tell Gerard in person but there seemed to be a really small chance of that happening right now. He could always bring a letter back, on it’s own, but there was less chance of Gerard reading it that way, if he knew it was going to be there. “I left…I left your clothes here!” he repeated. “I…fuck, Gerard, please?” he called out, hoping Gerard could hear the pain in his voice and that’d be enough.

Silence.

*

A week went by and Frank was miserable, and he was letting everyone else know it too. At school people had learnt to avoid him now unless they wanted a firm shove and a growl. He purposely bumped into people’s shoulders, causing them to drop their books before telling them to ‘fuck off’ as if it was there fault, he snapped at anyone who tried to talk to him and it was even worse if he caught anyone staring at him. Frank had become an asshole, more of one than usual.

He was currently standing by his locker, glaring at his books as he shoved them inside, swearing under his breath at the ones that tumbled out, before he slammed the door shut, just leaning against it for a while, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. In the middle of taking his third deep breath, someone’s shoulder slammed into his back, shoving him painfully into the lockers. For the past several days Frank had been the one doing the shoving, to be the receiver of one was strange and just pissed him off.

He spun around on his heels, grabbing the offender by their shirt and pushing them into the far wall, just as forcefully as they’d pushed Frank. He immediately recognised the boy; he’d been apart of the group that had been trashing Gerard’s building on Halloween night. So had his two friends that were with him.

The boy smirked at Frank before swinging out his right arm, his fist heading for Frank’s face, but Frank wasn’t stupid. He dodged the punch and sent one of his own to the kid’s gut instead, causing them to double over breathlessly. He was about to deliver a knee to the boy’s groin but forgot that he wasn’t his only opponent right now, and the failure to remember cost him a heavy blow against his cheekbone and knee to his side. He groaned but didn’t have much trouble standing back up on his feet against the pain; this wasn’t his first fight. While elbowing one of the three in their stomachs, he sent a strike to a second’s chin and dodged a flying hand from the third. In the small time he’d managed to get back on his feet he’d caused two busted lips and what was hopefully going to be a black eye for the other.

“Frank Iero! Max Fen!” It was Mrs. Thornman stalking her way towards them at the end of the hallway, an unimpressed look on his face. Frank assumed that the boy whose hair he was pulling was the one named Max. He gave Max’s roots one last painful yank before releasing his grip, stepping back reluctantly. Max glared at Frank, running off with his friends before they could feel the ‘wrath’ of Mrs. Thornman. “Frank,” she sighed exasperatedly, hands on hips, looking down at him disappointedly. “What’s gotten into you recently, hmm?” Frank didn’t need this; he _really_ didn’t need this. “You’re always asking for extra work, which is strange enough, but I don’t think I’ve seen you with your friends for a while either, or –“ Frank ended up just walking off in the middle of her sentence, too angry to even think about dealing with his teacher’s opinions of him.

He just didn’t care anymore.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

He’d heard everything Frank had said when he’d brought back Gerard’s clothes for him, and for a moment, for a split second, he’d felt bad, wanting to give Frank a chance. But then he'd remembered what Frank had done, how Frank had lied, so he’d sunk back into the shadows and waited until Frank had left before going to pick up his clothes, dumping the dirty ones he had been wearing in their place. He still had paint all over his face, hands and in his hair, but he didn’t mind that too much. He could live with that…or not live, whatever it was that he was doing.

The truth was he did miss Frank. Of course he did. He’d liked Frank, _really_ liked him and that wasn’t something he could just get over so quickly or easily. He’d shared information with Frank he’d never thought he’d ever reveal to anyone. He would have still told things to Frank that he had never told anyone. In the days that had passed, Frank had been on Gerard’s mind pretty much 24/7, either in boiling anger or trying to repress the fond memories. He’d also spent a lot of time staring at the messy black wall and the paints that Frank hadn’t taken back. He hadn’t even touched any of the stuff since and hadn’t been planning on it, but Frank had been on his mind a lot and he needed to get those emotions out somehow. If he didn’t then he’d just make himself worse.

So with this in mind, he began picking out the paints he needed.

*

Frank’s parents didn’t say a thing about the darkening bruise forming on his cheek, just like they hadn’t said a thing about his sudden change in his attitude. They didn’t care, and Frank knew that, had _known_ that. So he shouldn’t have been so bothered about it, and he wasn’t, not really, it was just that now he didn’t have Gerard to talk to and he no longer viewed his friends as his friends, so he was kind of alone. He hadn’t had a proper conversation with someone since and it was starting to take its toll on him. He was just getting angrier and more violent and more reclusive.

He’d received a threatening note in his locker, presumably from Max and his friends seeing as the death glares were also a constant thing from them. He wasn’t worried though. He didn’t care enough to be worried, and besides, he could look out for himself.

Since having the fight with Max, Frank had been picking more. He found that he liked it, the thrill of getting in hits and the dull throb that the hits he received left behind. He liked the grazes left behind on his knuckles and the purple bruises he obtained sometimes from kicks to his stomach.

He’d had countless detentions and reprimands for them, but those just worked in his favour. They gave him something to do at lunch so he wouldn’t see Ray or Bob or Pete. They’d also called his parents four times already, but they hadn’t spoken to Frank at all about it. Frank had heard his dad on the phone mention something about ‘ah, yes, well, all teenagers go through this phase, don’t they?” in that condescending tone of his, which just made Frank even angrier.

Obviously Ray, Bob and Pete had tried to get in contact with Frank, endless ringing which Frank just sent to voicemail each time until he got bored of doing it so often that he just took out his phone battery. He never called anyone anyway. Bob had come to his house a couple of times too but Frank had ignored the door and when his mom asked he just told her that he didn’t want to see anybody. Ever. She didn’t think too much into it, which Frank had suspected.

He was currently home alone, his parents God knows where, and he’d helped himself to the alcohol cabinet in their kitchen, grabbing a bottle of straight vodka. It was probably, no, _definitely_ , a bad idea seeing as he hadn’t been eating much, not just that day but, for the entire week. But he didn’t want good ideas right now. He wanted reckless irresponsible ones.

The alcohol burnt the back of his throat and made him want to cough, but he choked it down, taking swig after swig, gulp after gulp, until he began to feel that familiar buzz underneath his skin. He felt warm and fuzzy and lightheaded and relaxed. He hadn’t felt relaxed in a long time.

Once he’d practically downed half the bottle it was only inevitable that his mind let it’s guard down and began thinking about Gerard. He missed Gerard. Really fucking missed Gerard. Gerard. Gerard. Gerard. His brain couldn’t stop repeating the name. Gerard was the only one who’d ever really been there for him. His parents didn’t give a shit; he couldn’t share some of the personal stuff with his friends, or, who _used_ to be his friends anyway. Fuck it; he was going to see Gerard. He _needed_ to see him. He didn’t know what time it was but it was dark out so he suspected fairly late. But that was okay because Gerard didn't sleep. 

Was this a good idea? No, he didn’t want good ideas; he wanted stupid ones. But this was a good idea anyway. It was a fucking _brilliant_ idea. What could go wrong? Fucking _nothing_. He made sure he’d emptied the contents of the bottle of vodka into his stomach before grabbing his jacket and stumbling out of the house.

It took him a lot longer to reach Gerard’s building than it usually did, but that was probably because his feet felt a lot heavier and he kept tripping over them more often than not. He eventually made it to the building, staggering inside, holding onto the walls to keep himself upright. He tripped several times, falling to the ground on one occasion and grazing his elbow, swearing under his breath before giggling to himself, some reason finding it funny.

“Geeerrrraaarrddd!” he called out into the darkness. His voice sounded a lot louder than he’d meant it to, which made him laugh even more. “Gerarrrrrdddd!” he walked into the large room that the entrance opened up into, swinging his arms wildly. “Geeerrrraaarrddd! Stop ignoring me!” he moaned, kicking a small rock across the floor. “Gerard! I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it!” he was slurring his words, really badly, so he wasn’t sure if Gerard would even be able to understand him. “I miss you!” he wailed, his brain not leaving enough thinking time before his mouth spoke the words and, fuck, he probably sounded like a whiny baby.

“Who does the faggot miss?” A voice followed up behind him, accompanied by snickering. It didn’t sound like Gerard at all, plus Gerard would never use that word so spitefully. Frowning, Frank turned around slowly, careful to keep himself balanced, and saw Max and his friends enter the building. Had they followed him in here?

“Piss off.” he mumbled, waving his arm blindly, causing him to stumble. “And quit with the homophobic comments already, what are you, 10?”

“Why? You trying to deny it?” Frank had never announced that he was gay but he didn’t hide it either. He’d made out with guys at parties and shows where he’d been in full view of people so the word had probably gotten around that way. He’d never had a problem with it, most likely because he’d shut the person up with a solid right hook, and also because no one much cared. Max probably didn’t even care but was only saying it to get a reaction out of Frank.

“No, it’s not exactly a big secret. Why? You feeling lucky?” he teased and Max scowled, annoyed that he hadn’t irked Frank more.

“Who’s Gerard?” he goaded, ignoring Frank’s snipe and stepping closer to him, a sneer resting on his lips. “Another fag friend of yours?”

“Is ‘fag’ the only insult you know?” Frank sighed, leaning his head to the side in irritation. He may have been extremely drunk but he could still quip back. “Come on Max, you can do better than that.” Frank was probably making it worse, but in his current state of mind he couldn’t do anything wrong right now. “What about your bitches, do they have any ideas?” He looked at Max’s two friends that seemed to follow him everywhere. “In fact, are you sure you aren’t all fucking each other? You walk around everywhere together as if your hands are on each other’s dicks –“ the next thing Frank knew he was on the floor and his nose was oozing a warm substance, blood maybe? He couldn’t really feel any pain because of the excessive amount of alcohol in his system, which was probably a good thing. Regardless, he forced himself up on his feet, laughing lightly as he did. He swung out his fist, his direction and aim completely off due to the effect of the alcohol, so it was inevitable that he missed and instead made himself completely open to receiving a direct punch to the jaw.

He stumbled; tripping over his own feet and falling to the ground once again before getting a firm kick in the stomach.

“Way to kick a guy when he’s down.” Frank laughed, spitting blood at the same time. He didn’t know why he was laughing himself; he just couldn’t seem to stop.

“You think this is funny, Iero?” One of Max’s friends spat, getting in his own kick to Frank’s ribs.

“Looks like it doesn’t it?” he smiled; pretty sure he was dribbling blood down his chin as he did.

He wasn’t quite sure what happened after that. If he weren’t so intoxicated he would have been able to fight back, would have been able to defend himself, but instead he just had to lie there as he got the shit beaten out of him. His body went sort of numb instead of fiery with pain so it just felt like a heavy throbbing and he was pretty certain he’d feel it all tomorrow. The three of them were relentless, kicking and punching, and Frank wasn’t really sure why exactly. He hadn’t actually done anything wrong, not bad enough to deserve this anyway. At one point his vision became blurry with red and he figured he was going to have to at least try and protect himself before they did some serious damage, so he curled up in a ball and covered his head with his arms, his hands quickly becoming sticky with blood.

It felt like they were beating forever, their hits relentless and seeming to get harder. He began to silently wish for Gerard to come in and do something, stop it maybe, because _fuck_ they were going to break a rib or something if they hadn’t already, and Frank couldn’t do anything to help himself. He must’ve started thinking out loud at some point because Max forced out through gritted teeth:

“Gerard’s not coming to help your sorry ass.” And he was right. And then Frank wasn’t sure what hurt more: the beatings he was receiving or the fact that Gerard was most likely just watching it happen. Gerard wasn’t coming to help him. Gerard was never going to come and help Frank because Gerard thought Frank was a liar and hated him. Everything had become fucked up because of Frank’s friends, because of what they’d done, and Frank was the one getting shit for it.

Maybe he deserved it. Maybe. He could think of a few reasons why. Maybe it was because he cared about his music more than his grades; maybe it was because sometimes he was a bit of an asshole or maybe it was just because the universe hated him. Either way, someone, somewhere was thinking that he deserved this. Gerard was.

So he stayed curled up in the ball, closed his eyes and just willed for it to be over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, if he was sober, Frank would have so kicked those guy's asses, just so you know


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Gerard heard Frank yelling for him. He sounded drunk…or high; whichever would be more likely for Frank to do. Gerard sighed, making sure that Frank wouldn’t be able to see him from where he was stood. But then he’d heard other people enter the building too, people who didn’t seem to like Frank.

He’d heard all their pathetic insults, trying to get Frank to bite back, but to be honest Gerard thought that maybe Frank would be a little too out of it to do so, but apparently not.

And then Frank had stopped talking.

Gerard began to get a little nervous. What had happened to Frank? Was he alright? Sure he was angry with Frank, _more_ than angry, but a part of Gerard still cared for him. He bit his lip anxiously, stepping out from where he’d been hiding to go and look. He made sure he was still hidden behind a wall so that he couldn’t be seen, peering out from behind it.

Gerard didn’t know what to do when he saw it. There were three of them all together, excluding Frank. They were violently kicking and punching a small body on the floor, the small body being Frank.

Gerard had no idea why Frank wasn’t defending himself, why Frank wasn’t picking himself up and fighting back because Gerard knew he could. Why instead was he just lying down and taking it? The thought had crossed his mind, to just walk away. He _was_ angry with Frank, but…something felt wrong. He couldn’t just walk away and pretend he hadn’t seen anything. He couldn’t leave Frank. Gerard had been left and he’d lost his life because of it. There was no way in hell he could do the same. The three boys didn’t look like they were backing off anytime soon and Gerard needed to _do_ something, but what? He couldn’t exactly go out there and say something to them. First off they might recognise him and secondly it would still be 3 on 1, and Gerard had never been in a fight before. But, fuck; he couldn’t just let them keep attacking Frank like that.

He could feel himself start to panic, unsure of what to do. If he didn’t do anything he would be an asshole and Frank would get seriously hurt, even more than he already was. He was running out of time.

He frantically looked around, for something, anything, that would help him out. He caught sight of a small rock on the floor, and not being able to come up with a better idea, he picked it up before walking back over so that he had sight of Frank’s attackers.

Gerard had never been good in gym class, but his throwing wasn’t actually that bad. His aim wasn’t brilliant but at least he had one. He chucked the rock as hard as he could, watching as it hit one of the boys on the back of their head.

“Ah, shit!” the boy, who it had hit, cursed, ceasing his kicking and holding the back of his head.

“What?” One of the other guys demanding, looking pretty pissed.

“I – I don’t know. I think someone just threw something at me.”

“Shut up, there’s no one else in here.”

“I’m serious! Something just hit me!” Gerard looked behind him again, his eyes searching for a larger rock to throw this time. He picked up a medium sized one, checking the weight in his hands before launching it towards the three boys, careful not to hit Frank. The rock narrowly missed the tallest of the three in the side, skidding to a halt a few inches in front of them.

“What the…” the tallest stepped back slightly before spinning around on his heels. “Who the fuck’s out there?” he demanded angrily. They’d stopped beating Frank, all three of them, and had stepped away to get a closer look into the darkness where Gerard had thrown the rocks from. Gerard didn’t mess around; he took this as his chance to feel around on the ground for as many rocks as he possibly could, carrying them in his shirt before lobbing them towards the boys.

He got in a few good shots too, hitting one of them right in the eye. The boy yelped, covering his eye and backing away.

“Come on, let’s leave!” the one with the injured eye begged, turning away towards the exit.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” the tallest agreed, walking away slowly, casting a terrified glance in Gerard’s direction before running out of the building. He stayed hidden for a few minutes to make sure they were really gone before running out to see Frank.

He was still. Really still.

His face was covered in blood and he didn’t even want to know what his body looked like underneath his clothes. He was hoping it looked worse than it was but he could tell Frank was really hurt. He couldn’t quite understand how anyone could be so brutal.

Gerard knelt down beside Frank, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, knowing that if he didn’t wake up then he was in serious trouble.

“Frank!” he whispered, jerking Frank’s shoulders. “Frank!” no response. “Shit! Frank!” this time he raised his voice, his grip becoming slightly tighter, desperate for Frank to wake the fuck up right now. “Frank! Wake up! Frank! I’m not fucking kidding!” he could hear his own desperation in his voice, much too much for someone who was supposed to hate the guy, and maybe that was because he didn’t. He didn’t hate Frank, not at all. He wanted to, oh God did he want to, but he couldn’t. He’d tried and failed and now he was worried to death that Frank wasn’t going to come around to consciousness.  “Frank! I fucking mean it! Wake the fuck up! Frank! I need you to wake up, come on!”

Three more heavy jolts and Frank’s eyes slowly began open, fluttering, letting Gerard know he was going to be out of it again any second, but at least he was awake now.

“Thank fucking God for that.” Gerard sighed a deep breath, lowering his head down in relief.

“I don’t…feel so…good…” Frank mumbled, turning his head away from Gerard and grimacing.

“I know, I know, Frank? Do you have your phone on you?” Frank looked as if he was about to pass out again any second and to be on the safe side, Gerard thought it would have been best if he called an ambulance for him. “Frank? Phone?”

“Fuck…I really don’t feel good…” Gerard wasn’t sure if Frank even knew who he was right now so getting him to answer the questions seemed like a long shot. He began to pat Frank down, trying his best to ignore the wet sticky feeling beneath his clothes, looking for a phone. Nothing.

“Shit.”

“I didn’t…I swear…I didn’t know anything…you gotta tell Gee that…I didn’t know…” Frank mumbled and then he rolled over onto his side vomiting.

It was mainly liquid, Gerard guessed due to the excessive amount of liquor that he had consumed. It smelt vile, but then again, vomit usually did. Frank was already out cold again when Gerard rolled him back over.

“Damn it…” he had no way of calling an ambulance or anyone to come and help, and he couldn’t carry him home, he was too heavy. He was going to have to stay overnight in the building. Gerard knew that keeping him where he was, in plain view of anyone who walked in, was a stupid idea, so he grabbed Frank’s ankles and began dragging him into the back part of the building, the parts where no one ever really ventured. At least he’d be hidden there.

He turned Frank onto his front, just incase he threw up again. He didn’t have any blankets or anything for him to lie on or cover with so Gerard took off his blazer, rolling it up and sliding it gently underneath Frank’s head for some form of comfort, though he wasn’t really sure why that mattered seeing that no amount of folded up blazers were going to prevent the pain he was going to feel tomorrow.

He stayed by Frank the entire night, just watching him, keeping an eye on him. Was this his fault? Was this all because of Gerard, because Gerard had tried to phase Frank out? No…no, it was Frank’s fault for lying to him in the first place. Gerard was still mad, of course he still was, but no matter how much anger he felt, he couldn’t bring himself to hate Frank.

But had Frank even lied to him? Only minutes ago he’d said that he didn’t do it. Granted he’d been exceptionally drunk, but that only supported his case, right? People admitted things when they were drunk, truthful things, right? What if Frank was telling the truth, _had been_ telling the truth all along?

If that was the case then Gerard was a fucking jerk. If that was the case then this was Gerard’s fault after all.

Even if he had been telling the truth that still didn’t change the fact the Gerard was angry, still didn’t divert his mind from the thoughts of revenge.

He could already begin to see the purpling of the skin where bruises were forming along Frank’s skin, on his arms, his neck, his cheekbones. Gerard wanted to know why those boys had been attacking Frank like that. Gerard knew Frank could be an asshole at times, but usually not without good reason.

Maybe this was _their_ fault. Frank’s friends’ fault, the ones who had killed Gerard.

Gerard drew his knees up to his chest, chewing on his lip in thought. He was thinking too much about this; too much and too hard.

***

Frank’s body was aching all over. More than aching actually, his body felt as if it as on fire. He groaned loudly, trying to move his head but then realised what a bad fucking idea that was. He settled for working on just opening his eyes for now, forcing his eyelids up. His left one would only open halfway, but he wasn’t dwelling on that too much right now.

It took him a while to take in his surroundings and recognise where he was. He was still in the building where those fuckers had kicked the shit out of him. They’d just left him there.

“Fuckers…” he muttered, cringing at the taste of dried blood in his mouth. “Gonna fuckin’ kill ‘em.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen in the shape you’re in right now.” A voice beside him spoke softly. He remembered that voice. It felt like he hadn’t heard that voice in years when in reality it had only been a week or two. Frank wasn’t quite sure what to say. They hadn’t talked in so long, and in that time Frank had thought Gerard hated him. Maybe he still did.

“Gerard –“

“You’re in a really bad way, Frank.” Frank couldn’t quite see Gerard due to the angle he was lying down, but he couldn’t move without hurting himself. “I think you might have a broken rib or something.”

“I’ve had worse.” He lied.

“Why the fuck didn’t you fight back?” Frank winced as Gerard raised his voice, the noise hurting his head. Fuck, he was really hung-over. Frank opened his mouth to reply, his words interrupted by his own gagging, retching onto the floor, coughing up some more of last nights liquor before collapsing back down onto his side.

“Does that answer your question?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I know.” He felt a pair of hands hold him underneath his arms grimacing as he was pulled up into the sitting position, his back against the wall, Gerard scooting around so that he was sat in front of Frank.

“I was really worried about you, you know?” Gerard whispered, so quietly it was barely even audible, but it was there.

“Really?” Of course Frank was surprised by it. He was still shocked that Gerard was here with him, right now, _talking_ to him.

"They were fucking kicking the shit out of you! If I’d let them carry on I’m not even sure if you would have woken up at all! They looked pretty angry…”

“Wait…you…you stopped them?”

“You thought I was just going to let them get on with it?”

“Well…I thought you were still mad at me…”

“Jesus, Frank! Yes I was mad but that doesn’t mean I wanted – wanted – _that_ to happen to you!” There was an unsettling silence between them for a few moments before Gerard tried to talk again. “You don’t have a phone on you.”

“No.” Frank agreed, rubbing his head as if that would cease the hammering against his skull.

“I was going to call an ambulance. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You know…I really didn’t know Gerard, I swear to God I didn’t know, I –“

“I know.” Gerard cut him off before Frank could finish babbling to him. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter and the next are more like filler chapters until I get to the...next part of the plot I guess you could say. So sorry if they're a little boring but if I just skip straight ahead then it kind of wouldn't make sense.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Gerard had had to help Frank home seeing as he couldn’t stand by himself, let alone walk. Frank had really just wanted to stay curled up on the hard floor and sleep, but Gerard was very adamant not to let Frank bleed out to death under his supervision. The trip took ten times as long due to the agonizingly slow pace they had to go, and Frank wasn’t shy from a bit of whining.

“Fuck, they fucked me up so bad, damn it. Fucking assholes…”

“I know.”

“I’m going to kill them all, without a fucking second thought.”

“So you keep saying.”

“And you know what makes it twice as bad? The dicks just fucking left me there! They didn’t know if I was gonna make it through the night!”

“Well I know how that feels.” And then Frank stopped, coming to a halt, pulling Gerard back with him.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to -”

“S’not your fault.” He shrugged, unable to meet Frank’s eye, pulling his arm to begin moving again but Frank wasn’t done yet.

“We need to talk about it, Gee…” Frank was hesitant at using his nickname for Gerard, in case Gerard really was still mad at Frank, but if he was he didn’t say anything about it.

“Yeah…” Gerard sighed, averting his gaze again. “Later though, okay? If you haven’t noticed, you’re pretty banged up.”

“Noticed it? I’m fucking living through it.”

“All the more reason to hurry up and get you home then, right?” Frank agreed, letting Gerard help him limp the rest of the way home. It felt like hours had passed before they actually made in through Frank’s front door, and Frank was not even going to attempt making it up the stairs and just decided to collapse on the couch instead. “Should I get ice for your…face…and stuff?”

“I don’t fucking know.” He grumbled becoming increasingly irked from the pain his body was putting him through right now.

“Well what do you usually do?”

“I usually get some fucking hits in and it’s the other guy hobbling home.”

“Well clearly things change.”

“Fuck off!”

“Hey! Don’t get angry at me, you’re the one who got yourself in this mess!”

“Because my life went to shit after you left!” Frank closed his eyes in frustration, because of the pain and what he’d just admitted to Gerard. He heard footsteps come up beside him, his body tensing painfully.

“I didn’t leave you, Frank.” Gerard’s voice was soft and careful and…sad?

“You kind of did. I thought…I thought you hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you. I never hated you. I was really angry with you.”

“But I swear I’m telling the truth, I didn’t know anything, they never told me! If I had known I would’ve told you I swear to God, Gee, I’m not –“

“I know. I know that now.” Frank wanted to know what had made Gerard change his mind, wanted to know why he suddenly believed him now, but at the same time he was just so relieved that he had Gerard back. So relieved that Gerard wasn’t mad at him anymore. So relieved that he wasn’t alone anymore.

“I missed you, Gee,” Gerard gently slid his hand into Frank’s, interlocking their fingers together.

“I missed you too, Frankie.”

***

Frank had said that he didn’t know when his parents were going to be back, but that it probably wouldn’t be till late seeing as they worked, so Gerard had decided to look after him for the day. He was glad to be back around Frank, but there was awkwardness between the two of them. Gerard still couldn’t get over the fact that Frank’s friends had killed him. And they still hadn’t talked about it yet. To be truthful, Gerard had been trying to avoid the topic because, well, he didn’t really know what to say, he didn’t really know what this meant.

He was still fucking angry over the whole thing. And he still had his mind pretty dead set on some form of payback. He hadn’t really had any friends when he was alive but Ray had spoken to him a couple of times, laughed with Gerard, hell, other than Mikey, Ray was the closest thing he’d had to gaining a friend. And now to find out that ‘friend’ had been an accessory in his death just screwed up his mind.

“I know you’re still mad.” Frank spoke up from his spot on the couch, clutching an ice pack to his swollen eye. Gerard shifted uncomfortably next to him, playing with the edge of Frank’s shirt nervously.

“I’m not mad at _you_ , it’s just the whole thing. It’s just that…they left me, you know? The other two I can’t vouch for, but Ray had been a sort of friend and even he’d left me. It somehow makes me feel…not worth anything.”

“Well that’s bullshit because I’ve had an awful time without you, which just proves how worth it you are.” Gerard smiled, only a small one, but it did make him feel better. “I don’t know what you want to do about it.” Gerard frowned, confused as to what Frank was talking about. Was he talking about taking revenge like Gerard had been thinking? “They think you’re still alive, if that gets around then…” Frank trailed off, not seeming to know how to finish that sentence. But that was right. They all still believed that Gerard was still alive, that they hadn’t killed him. Any guilt they had would have probably faded away. There wasn’t anything for them to feel guilty about as far as they were concerned. And that wasn’t right. They couldn’t be let off the hook so easily. That wasn’t fair.

And then Gerard had an idea.

He was going to have to get killed by them again.

He needed them to live with their guilt _forever._ It couldn’t just be a temporary thing because Gerard’s death wasn’t temporary either. His body was decomposing six feet underground somewhere; to everyone else, to his family, to his _brother_ , he was dead. And someone needed to feel guilty about his death.

“Gerard?” Frank’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and back to reality. He couldn’t tell Frank about his idea, he’d never agree to it. Whether Frank was angry with his friends or not, he wasn’t going to along with fucking with them over like this.

“Huh? Uh…I…I don’t know.” He shrugged, his mind too clouded with trying to formulate plans. Frank must’ve been able to see how uneasy the topic was making Gerard feel as he changed the subject, shifting the ice pack on his face, wincing slightly. Hell, if Frank didn’t hurt the assholes that did this too him then Gerard was sure going to take a pretty good shot at it.

“My parents are going to kill me. Fuck, with not coming home last night and getting the shit beaten out of me…I am so dead.”

“You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital or something?”

“What? And get a bill giving my parents another thing to hate me for? No thank you.”

***

By the time Gerard left, Frank was so dosed up on painkillers that the harrowing pain had died down to a dull throbbing, allowing him to move his body enough to get to his room. He hid out there the entire night, his parents not even coming up to greet him or ask him where the fuck he’d been the night before. Maybe they hadn’t noticed, or maybe they had but they just didn’t care. The hangover he was also suffering from had almost become void against the intense discomfort his body felt, which he supposed was some twisted form of a plus.

He’d hardly slept the entire night, unable to find a position that didn’t hurt, and the tiredness just made it ten times more difficult when he had to force himself out of bed the next morning for school, his body screaming in protest. He had to go in today. He couldn’t let those assholes think they’d broken him, think they’d won. Besides, he wanted to tear off at least one of their dicks today.

He shovelled a couple pills down his throat before he left, tucking a few boxes into his bag for later when the pain became unbearable again. His face looked awful. His left eye was still pretty swollen, the ice having done fuck-all; his lip had scabbed over at several parts where it had split and he had a darkening green bruise along his jawline. His face could have been used as a muse for Greek sculptures compared to what the rest of his body looked like. Almost his entire abdomen was covered in blue and black bruising, the flesh tender to the touch, it hurting to even lift his arms to pull his t-shirt over his head.

There was a high chance he probably did have a broken rib or two, but there was nothing the hospital could do for that anyway, so he just let the painkillers do their work and tried not to bang into anything. It was also times like these that he wished he’d been more experimental and had invested in some form of makeup to help make the contusions less noticeable.

He had known he was going to get looks in the corridors, stared at throughout class, whisperings travelling around about whatever the hell could’ve happened to him. He tried to ignore most of them or send a cold glare back to anyone he caught staring, but it was difficult when there were just so many people doing it. It was also extremely off putting. He couldn’t even seem to go to the bathroom without someone gawking at him in the neighbouring urinal, which was also very creepy.

It wasn’t until the transition from his third period to the fourth that he saw an opportunity to make himself feel better. He caught sight of one of the two boys that had been with Max that night in the building. He was dark haired, short, stocky and happily chatting to a group of girls, clearly having the eyes for the tall blonde who wore too much red lipstick and whose hair looked similar to that of a haystack (though if anyone asked they’d just be told it was ‘the professional messy look’). Without hesitation Frank walked right up to him, grabbing the boy by his collar and spinning him round, shoving his knee up into the kid’s groin. The boy shrieked (yes, fucking _shrieked_ ) and dropped to the ground, grabbing his crotch with both hands, squirming in pain.

“Josh!” One of the girls squealed, looking unsure of whether to help the boy up or to just slowly back away and pretend that she hadn’t seen anything.

“Josh? So that’s your name? I’ll be sure to remember that.” Frank hissed, crouching down so that Josh had better earshot. “Next time I’ll fucking rip it off, so you better stay the fuck away from me now on, got it?” The boy, who was now known as Josh, nodded his head, his teeth gritted, his eyes scrunched up. “Good boy.” He stood up again, smiling sweetly at the frightened girls before stalking away.

One down, two to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So updates may be slightly irregular for a while as I'm dealing with some stuff right now, but I'll try my best to keep them within a few days of each other. Sorry. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Max didn’t seem to be in school that day but Frank did catch sight of the third guy at the end of his last period (whose name he found out was Ben), and delivered a swift punch to his gut before giving him the same threat he’d given Josh. It made him feel better, it really did. It almost made him forget that he had to walk away with a limp.

“Holy shit, Frank, what happened to you?” Ray’s voice appeared behind him, concerned and pleading. Frank wasn’t ready to talk to them yet, any of them, so he carried on walking as if he hadn’t heard a thing. “Frank! Wait! Please!” Ray ran up behind him, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back, causing Frank to hiss in pain. “Sorry, sorry…Jesus Frank…what happened?” Ray released Frank’s shoulder, taking a step or two back to give him some space.

“What happened?” Frank spun on Ray, his body beginning to seethe with anger. “What _happened?_ I’ll tell you what happened, you hit a guy with a car, left him there _to die,_ said guy ended up hating me, everything went to shit, I got drunk, got beaten pretty fucking badly, and now I’m evening out the score with the assholes that gave me all these bruises, _that’s_ what fucking happened.” Ray seemed pretty speechless, probably taking time to process all the information Frank had just given him, and to be honest Frank was surprised he’d revealed it all. So much for playing it cool.

“I think you’re doing a good job so far at evening out the score if it’s that boy you kicked in the crotch earlier; he had to be sent home. Pretty sure he was crying too.” Frank hid the fact that that particular detail made his insides twist in delight, and instead succeeded in keeping his despondent expression.

“Well, isn’t this my lucky day?” he hissed sarcastically, turning to leave again before Ray hopped in front of him.

“We need to talk. All of us.”

“And…what? You just expect me to agree to that? You fucking _killed_ a guy, my _friend._ ” And Frank had to try hard to remember that Ray was _not_ one of the people whose balls he was supposed to kick today, no matter how tempting it was at this point in time.

“He’s not dead!” Ray argued back before looking around cautiously to see if anyone had heard him, lowering his voice when he spoke again just to be sure. “He’s not dead, we didn’t kill anyone, so stop saying we did!”

“You wanna say that to his brother? You wanna say that to the people that built his coffin? That buried him? That built his headstone for him?” Frank didn’t even know what he was saying before he had said it. He didn’t really have the right to be telling them about Gerard, he was supposed to ask Gee how he felt about it first, ask him what he wanted to do about it. Not just blurt it out in a fit of anger.

“What…what are you…what are you saying?” Ray’s brows furrowed worriedly, his mouth parting slightly in confusion.

“I’m saying…stay the fuck away from me.”

*

“Gerard?” he called out into the empty building. He’d numbed up on medication, so that he pretty much couldn't feel any of the bruises or aches in his body when he moved, and decided to stop by after school, more out of habit than anything, but Gerard was still a little funny with him, which Frank supposed he should have expected. “Gerard? Are you – whoa…” He’d walked into the room where they’d painted the large wall black, except it wasn’t just black anymore.

It took Frank a moment to realise it was actually _himself_ that had been drawn and painted, because Gerard had drawn him so beautifully. His portrait had his hands in his pockets, his head down and a small quirk playing at his lips. His skin was a deathly pale colour, almost stark white, the hazel-green of his irises standing out bright against it. Gerard had painted him wearing a black shirt and black trousers that had been outlined by white, so it was able to be distinguished from the background, and with a bright red tie handing loosely from around his neck.

He had a shadow, also outlined by white, and it took him a moment to notice that his shadow wasn’t your average silhouette. It was Gerard. Gerard was his shadow.

It looked a little strange at first because somehow Gerard had managed to get all the dimensions right so that he still looked like a human, but as a shadow at the same time. It was a struggle for Frank to take his eyes off of it and he realised he didn't even mind if he spent the rest of his days just staring at the art on the wall, it was just that extraordinary. 

“I wasn’t sure if it would turn out great but…I’m really happy with it.” Gerard appeared beside him, looking up at the wall.

“I thought it was going to be something to remember you by?” Gerard had ended up dedicating the wall more to him  _and_ Frank instead of just himself and his previous life.

“It is.”

“But…you’re in my shadow…”

“Yes, because that’s how I live.”

“In…my shadow? I’m pretty sure that’s not a good thing…” 

“Sometimes it’s not.” Gerard agreed, never taking his eyes off the wall. “But it depends who’s living in it. The way I look at it, without you there is no me. You see, I’m already dead, so I can’t exactly _live_ , like you do, but I feel like I can with you.”

Frank didn’t know what to say to that. Frank didn’t know if he could say anything to that. He chewed on his lip, wishing that he had a mind like Gerard so that he was able to understand all the metaphors in the picture, the meaning behind each brushstroke. 

“And…uh…do you still feel that way?” Frank wasn’t sure if things would have changed since then, if maybe Gerard didn’t quite feel the same way anymore after everything that had happened.

“What? You mean to like you enough that I felt the need to dedicate a fucking wall to you?” But then a small smiled tugged up at the corner of his lips, taking away any venom that may have been behind those words. “Then yes. Yes I still feel ‘that way’.” Frank nodded, staring back up at Gerard’s art and smiling a little at his dorky use of air quotations he'd done with his fingers. “How was school?”

“Awful. But when isn’t it?” And then he sighed, knowing he was going to have to bring it up at some point so why not now? “They think you’re still alive, Gee.”

“What’ve they been saying?”

“I don’t know…I haven’t been talking to them, I try to avoid them, but uh…Ray came up to me today. He told me that I shouldn’t be as mad because they hadn’t actually killed you.” Frank watched out of the corner of his eye as Gerard’s hands clenched into fists. “We’re going to have to do something before they start telling people.” He decided to leave out the part where he’d accidentally already hinted (greatly) to Ray that Gerard was in fact dead.

“I’ll think of something…” Gerard shrugged, turning away from the wall but keeping his eyes to the floor. “Do they…do they drive… _now_?”

“Yeah,” And then Frank realised how it must seem that the people who had killed Gerard when driving without licenses actually had licenses now. “Shit…yeah…yeah they do…” When Gerard didn’t reply with anything, Frank reached out for his hand, holding it tightly, reassuringly. Gerard didn’t hold back as tight, nor did he look at Frank either, and he wondered how long it would take for things to get completely back to the way they were before.

*

Frank’s ‘friends’ cornered him at school the next day, in the middle of the hallway up against the lockers when he’d been on his way to his second period.

“Move.” Frank demanded, clenching his teeth in annoyance.

“Not until we talk.” Bob replied, a stern edge to his voice for someone who should be apologising.

“I don’t _want_ to talk.”

“Well we do.”

“Oh, well if that’s what _you_ want then of course.” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he stepped to the side, trying to walk around them but Pete just followed his movements, blocking his path. “Fuck you, I’m going to be late for next lesson.”

“Next lesson is math and we all know none of us give a shit about that, including you.” Bob argued. Ray was shifting uncomfortably beside Frank, wringing his hands together before speaking up.

“Well actually I do…so if we could make this quick?”

“Fucking unbelievable…” Frank muttered, shaking his head and casting a glance towards Ray. “You wanna talk? Fine, talk, but you’ve got 5 minutes before I kick your ass to the ground Bryar.” Frank warned but glaring at all three of them.

“We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want you to have to cope with keeping it a secret too.” Bob began, looking at Frank expectantly as if those few words would have made everything suddenly okay between them.

“And…what? Am I supposed to suddenly forgive you for killing my friend?”

“He’d not dead!” Bob hissed, banging his fist against the locker.

“What were you even doing driving? You were _15_.”  Frank changed the subject away from whether Gerard was dead or alive; he didn’t need to fuck up much more and give Gerard a reason to get angry with him again.

“We were just messing around.” Pete chimed in.

“Oh, yeah, it sounds like it.” Frank snapped, folding his arms, making a wry face. “3 minutes left, I wasn’t kidding.”

“We wanted to get to a show, this band that was playing that night. We were stupid and giddy and had no other way of getting there so…” Bob trailed off, but he didn’t really need to finish.

“So you came up with the brilliant idea of stealing your parents car and fucking running down some kid with it?”

“It was an accident!”

“And you fucking left him there? What is wrong with you?”

“We freaked out! We thought that someone else would come by and see him, help him.” Pete explained, looking down at his shoes sadly.

“Yeah but you didn’t think about within that time span he could _die_ , did you?”

“He’s not dead, why do you keep saying that?” Fuck, Frank couldn’t say much more without revealing the truth, which they probably still wouldn’t believe anyway; he wasn't going to risk it anyhow. Ray was already looking at him questionably due to their short conversation the day before as well.

“Get the fuck out of my way.” Frank hissed, clutching onto his backpack tightly, trying to control his anger.

“But Frank –“

“No. Just…just stay away from me, alright? You’ve done some fucked up shit in your time, hell, so have I, but this? This is too far. Stay. The fuck. Away from me.” Frank finished before pushing his way past Bob and stalking to his next lesson. He was done with his friends.

He was so angry with them for doing such a stupid thing, for being so careless; he was so angry with them for not telling him and he was so angry with them for destroying a part of his and Gerard’s relationship that he wasn’t sure whether he could get back or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, still pretty much doom and gloom so far I'm afraid. Also, there's only a few more chapters to go and then I think I'm pretty much finished with the entire story, which sort of saddens me a little but hey, that's probably just me getting too attached to the characters again.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Gerard knew exactly what he was going to do now. He’d planned it all out in his head, making sure there were no faults or holes. It was a simple plan really, it wouldn’t involve him doing much, but it was going to hurt.

If stabbing himself had hurt then this was definitely going to, but at least he knew he’d survive it…or just not die again, Gerard wasn’t really sure how this worked.

But that didn’t really matter, as long as he knew the basics then the logistics behind everything was secondary.

He wasn’t sure exactly when he was going to do it however. He wanted to do it as soon as possible really, the quicker the better because he hated feeling like this. He needed to get his anger out quickly. That way he’d feel better. And if he felt better then he could start repairing things that had become fucked up, like what he’d had with Frank.

It was daylight but he’d managed to find a shadowed area of the building to sit in, his knees pulled up to his chest. He concentrated on not letting his mind wander into the bad ideas of his plan. As far as he was concerned it was great. This was going to give him what he wanted. He was just evening out the score, right? Yes, that’s what he was doing, and it was going to be _great_.

He was going to make them relive it. He was going to make them relive their murder.

***

Gerard was acting strange the next day when Frank went to visit him, stranger than usual. He kept spacing out, not really concentrating on anything Frank was saying; he was really fidgety, unable to seem to sit still which was usually Frank’s problem, but it seemed today they’d swapped places. He was also asking weird questions. Something was definitely up.

“Does um…the blonde one…does he drive back from school?” Frank frowned, unsure what Gerard wanted with information like that.

“You mean Bob? Uh…yeah, usually, yeah…why?” Gerard just shrugged, not giving an answer to Frank. “Are you okay?” Gerard just looked off into space, zoning out again. “Gerard?”

“Huh? Yeah?”

“What’s going on with you today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting strange.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes. You are.”

“Oh. Well I don’t mean to be.”

“But that doesn’t change that you _are._ What’s going on?”

“Nothing! Nothing…I’m just…tired.” Frank could only blink at the lame excuse Gerard had given him.

“Tired?” Gerard nodded, not saying anything else, seemingly not noticing what was wrong with that excuse. “So you’re telling me, the reason you’re acting weird today is because you, a dead being that doesn’t need to sleep, is _tired_?” Gerard didn’t reply to that either, he just looked away from Frank, entwining his fingers together nervously. “Right. Okay. Fine. Whatever.” He sighed irritably, grabbing his backpack and standing up. “I’m not saying you can’t want to be by yourself, but don’t be a dick about it alright? Just say next time.”

“No, Frank, that’s not –“

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waved half-heartedly before leaving the building. He had probably overreacted. He was just angry that him and Gerard still weren’t completely back to normal. And whose fault was that? Well, he thought he knew the answer before but now he wasn’t so sure.

***

He felt bad when Frank had left. He didn’t want Frank to think that Gerard didn’t want to spend time with him, because he did. It was just that his mind was preoccupied with what he was planning to do tomorrow. Yes, he’d decided on a date finally. Once he’d gone through with it he could begin to get back to normal, or what had been normal for him after he’d met Frank.

He was scared to go through with it, yes. He was going to have to leave the building by himself; Frank wouldn’t be there to reassure him or comfort his nerves. He was just going to keep his head down, walk fast and had to make sure that he was stood in the middle of that road when Bob was driving down it.

He supposed it was sort of like haunting…in a way, and that fit him perfectly for the circumstances he was in, being a ghost and all. Was he even a ghost? If he wasn’t a ghost what was he, a zombie? But he didn’t have a craving for human flesh or brains. Gerard didn’t know what he was and wasn’t sure if he was ever going to. With Frank he felt human. Frank treated him like a human.

He really hoped what he was going to do wasn’t going to mess up things between him and Frank even more.

He really hoped that.

***

Gerard wasn’t in the building the next day when Frank went to visit. At first Frank just thought that Gerard was ignoring him, not wanting to talk to him or a little irked about yesterday, but something just felt…off. Frank wasn’t quite sure how he could tell, but the building just felt a lot emptier.

He was probably being stupid. But then he got to thinking about how weird Gerard had been acting recently. All the questions he’d been asking. Questions about whether or not that Bob had a license, whether or not Bob drove home from school and...holy shit…

It couldn’t be that, could it? Gerard was angry, sure, but he wasn’t angry enough to do something like that, was he? But if it was true then it made sense, then everything Gerard had done and said in the last few days made sense. Fuck, he did not want to risk something as serious as this.

“Gerard! Gerard if you’re in here you better fucking answer me!”  Frank borderline screamed into the place, his voice echoing, bouncing off the corner of the walls so that if Gerard were inside then he would definitely hear him. “Shit.” He cursed loudly after a minute or so had passed and he had received no answer.

He turned on his heels and bolted out the door, dust clouding up from the gravel underneath his feet. He had to stop what Gerard was about to do. It was a bad idea, a very bad idea. He just hoped he made it in time because if he’d guessed correctly then Gerard had some really fucked up plans of pay back, which would not end well for anyone.

***

Gerard did exactly as he planned. He kept his head down, hid behind his hair and walked fast so that no one would have time to look at his face and recognise him. Not that they would. Most people would have probably forgotten about him by now. He hadn’t been that much of a memorable person.

Lucky for him, there was only one road that exited from the school. It was even luckier that traffic was not bad so that there wouldn’t be so many cars on the road. He didn’t have to worry about other students seeing him either as there was a separate pathway they took if they were walking home. That was just the way it had always been.

He hadn’t really thought about how much it was going to hurt. He’d decided that he didn’t care too much because it would be over soon and then he’d be back to where he’d started, but content. He knew Bob wasn't the only one at fault, he knew he had to get back at the other two as well, but right now Bob was his number one priority. Bob had been that one that had hit him.

Gerard made sure that he was at a distance where he could see who was behind the wheel before he stepped out onto the road. He didn’t want to get the wrong person and cause an unnecessary accident. He waited patiently on the pavement, hands in pockets, head down, the actions bringing back familiar unwanted memories. About to relive his own death was difficult, it was scary. 

“Gerard! What the fuck?” An angry voice sounded from behind him; he didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was. “This is your solution to whatever’s going on inside your head? Huh?” Frank grabbed Gerard by his shoulder, spinning him around so that they were facing each other. “Well?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Gerard didn't bother to try and pretend like Frank had gotten it all wrong, there was really no point. Frank had probably had an inkling all along.

“I want you to realise how crazy this is and stop it!”

“I can’t! I can’t, Frank! I need this! I need to make sure that they, that _they_ get what they deserve, that they don’t get away with it like that, guilt free!” Franks eyes widened and he stepped back a little.

“ _That’s_ why you’re doing this? Because you don’t think they feel guilty enough?”

“They think I’m alive now, what do they have to feel guilty about anymore?”

“That they fucking almost killed you in the first place! This is ridiculous!” Gerard just shook his head, his hair obscuring his view.

“No, not to me it isn’t.” And then Gerard’s attention was taken away from Frank and towards the car that was coming down the road behind them, the car that had Bob sat behind the wheel. He pulled away from Frank, heading out to the middle of the road. He didn't have time to try and make Frank understand right now.

“No!” Frank grabbed Gerard’s arm, forcefully yanking him back onto the pavement. “I’m not going to let you do this!” He hissed angrily, his grip on Gerard’s arm tight. “Can you not see how – how – _insane_ this is?!” Gerard jerked out of Frank’s hold, shoving him backwards at the same time and walking out onto the road. The car was only a few seconds away, ten at the most.

“No, I guess I don’t.”

“Gerard!” Before Frank could say anything else, Gerard jumped out into the road, in front of the car, making eye contact with Bob who looked terrified, trying to swerve the car out of the way before it hit him, and Gerard couldn’t help the taunting smirk that pulled at the corner of his lips. But it was too late.

Gerard felt the impact hit him, but it wasn’t one he was expecting. It was softer and came into his side, sending him flying to the other side of the road but not as fast as he would have if it were the metal of the car bumper that hit him. But he _heard_ the impact of bone against glass, the screeching of tires. The car had hit someone, but it hadn't been him.

He sat up from where he was sprawled over the ground, looking at the small disaster scene in front of him. The car had stopped, it’s windscreen having an obvious crack running through it, Bob behind the wheel just staring, a picture of horror on his face. Gerard didn’t want to move his eyes down to the floor, didn’t want to see what the car had actually hit because he already knew. If it hadn’t hit him then he knew who it had.

Frank was lying on the ground, his limbs bent at funny angles, at worrying angles. He wasn’t conscious either; his eyes were closed and he was dangerously still.

Then it dawned on Gerard that Frank had tried to get him out of the road in time and instead had ended up getting hit himself. He didn’t know what to do. He was too stunned to move, all he could do was stare. What had he _done?_ No, no, no, no, this was not how it was supposed to happen, no one was really supposed to get hurt, not this badly and least of all Frank. 

Gerard thought back to when he'd found Frank in his building that night, bloodied and unconscious. He remembered how he'd wondered how anyone could ever do that to someone. And yet here he was. He'd done it to Frank. 

He suddenly snapped out of it as the car door opened, a hysterical Bob running over to his friend’s aid. He was shouting stuff, things at Frank, things at Gerard, but none of the words seemed to get through. Gerard was still too shocked to comprehend anything very well.

This was all his fault. He couldn’t blame this on anyone else but him now. He’d been so caught up in the thoughts of revenge and making them pay that he’d caused the only person to ever really accept Gerard, the only person Gerard had wanted to _protect_ , to get hurt. He was an _awful_ person.

“Well you got what you wanted!” Bob screamed at him from the middle of the road, tears brimming in his eyes. “You hurt me, are you happy now?” But Gerard hadn’t hurt Bob, not like he’d wanted to. Instead he’d hurt someone much, much dearer to him. No, this was nothing like what Gerard had wanted. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after boycotting sleep and ingesting 9 million cups of coffee, I had a mass writing session and I managed to finish (or at least get the basic outlines) of the last couple chapters, hallelujah! This means I think I'll be able to update everyday up to the end (which isn't that amazing because there's only two chapters left but oh well, it's the thought, right?)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV

Just over a week since the incident and Gerard was making his way to the hospital. When he’d heard the sirens on their way he’d had to leave; he was registered as dead after all. He just hoped that Bob wouldn’t run his mouth and say anything, but even if he did the police probably wouldn’t believe him that someone who had died three years ago had been the physical cause of the accident.

He figured if he was asked for a name at the hospital then he’d give a fake one, and hopefully he shouldn’t be recognised. They had hundreds of people coming through their doors everyday, they wouldn’t have remembered Gerard’s face after a week, let alone three years.

He hated hospitals. There were always too many people in one place, bustling around, either patients demanding help or doctors and nurses shouting orders across the halls. And there always seemed to be someone coughing on him, not that he could get sick anymore…or could he? He wasn’t really sure, but at least if he caught a deadly contagious disease he wouldn’t be killed off by it, making the name rather ironic.

He shuffled in through the doors, head down, hands in his blazer pockets, heading towards the front desk. There was a sweet looking blonde woman behind it, operating the phone and tapping on the keys of her computer’s keyboard with her chipped pink nail polish (which Gerard was pretty sure wasn’t allowed, the nail polish that is) at the same time. She smiled as Gerard approached, her grin reaching her ears, holding up a finger indicating that she’d be with him shortly. She seemed too happy for someone who had to watch sick people hobble in through the doors every day. 

He’d seemed to have picked a really busy time to visit, just his luck. He could feel his chest tighten with the too well known feeling of anxiety, something he hadn’t lost since his death. He just closed his eyes and tried to think about anything else. A panic attack was the last thing he needed right now.

“How can I help you?” The woman’s voice caused Gerard to snap his eyes open, wanting to kick himself at how much he’d been startled by that. He knew how on edge he looked; the woman was probably wondering if Gerard was here to check himself in for a mental health assessment.

“Um, I’m looking for…a friend. Frank Iero?” The woman nodded, tapping away at the keys again, reading whatever had come up on her screen.

“Ah yes, Frank Iero, room N17. Down the hall to your left, sweetie.” Gerard mumbled a quick thanks before steering off to where she had directed him.

He hadn’t even thought about Frank having anybody in the room with him, he just inhaled a deep breath he didn’t need, twisting the door handle and walking in. He should’ve looked in through the small window first, to check if Frank had other visitors. Of _course_ Frank would have other visitors. Gerard just wanted to die all over again, especially when he saw who the visitors were.

“Shit, I’m sorry – I didn’t think – I’ll go…” Gerard turned to leave again, to just walk right back out.

“No, it’s fine.” Frank’s voice stopped him. He sounded fine. Just from his voice you wouldn’t be able to tell that a car going 35mph had hit him.

“I’m going to see if this place has any decent coffee, you guys coming?” Gerard recognised Ray’s voice, stepping out of their way as the three of them left him alone with Frank.

He stayed standing by the door for a little longer once it had closed, working up the courage to even look at Frank. He couldn’t even begin to explain how awful he felt about what he’d done, how he’d never meant for any of this to happen, how he’d take it all back if he could. But Frank probably knew that already. Jesus, Gerard fucking hoped Frank knew it.

“So –“

“I’m so sorry.” Gerard interrupted Frank, his eyes still cast towards the floor. When he finally did find the nerve to look at Frank he could’ve sworn he had a working heart and at that moment it was sinking, all the way to the pit of his stomach. You might have not been able to tell by his voice that a car driving 35mph had hit, but you could definitely tell by the way he looked. Frank’s right leg was in a cast, hoisted up from the bed by all these contraption ropes and cogs. He was connected to tubes holding blood bags and what Gerard guessed was morphine, and he could see stitches along Frank’s hairline. “I’m so fucking sorry, Frankie, I didn’t mean – I didn’t – _fuck_ – I’m so –“

“It’s okay.” And Frank actually _smiled_ , smiled as if Gerard wasn’t the reason that Frank was currently confined to a hospital bed. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is. If I hadn’t been…hadn’t been so _stupid_ and caught up in the thought of revenge then none of this would’ve happened…”

“Well that’s true.” Frank admitted, shrugging his shoulders before wincing slightly, but still not seeming angry at all.

“What’ve you got?” Gerard asked, finally making his way over to Frank’s bed, gingerly sitting down on the chair beside it.

“Broken leg, 14 stitches, 6 on my head, 5 along my back and 3 on my hip, a few broken ribs and a little bit of internal bleeding, though the doctors think they’ve sorted that out now.”

“Jesus, I’m so sorry –“

“I heard you the last hundred times.” Frank laughed, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know why though, this cast is going to get me out of gym for at least a month. I’m fucking celebrating, dude.” Gerard couldn’t join in with Frank’s humour. He also couldn’t understand how Frank could make light of such a situation.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Well no but…you _should_ be, Frank, I’m the reason you’re in this place –“

“Did you push me in front of the car?” Gerard frowned, leaning forward in his seat slightly.

“Well, not exactly but –“

“Did you push me in front of that car, Gerard?” He pressed again, his look stern for Frank.

“…No.” Gerard sighed, letting his shoulders slump.

“Then this isn’t your fault, okay?”

“But I just –“

“Fuck, Gee, I’m just happy you’re making an effort to talk to me again!” And then somehow Gerard managed to feel even worse because he realised just how shitty he’d treated Frank coming up to the accident too.

“I feel like I need to make it up to you…I _want_ to make it up to you…”

“Then do that by not shutting me out when crazy ideas like those go through your head, okay?” All Gerard could do was reply with a solemn nod. “Good. Now come here, fucker, I’ve missed you.” Frank held an arm open, Gerard holding back, scared of hurting Frank in the condition he was in. “Oh for God’s sake, I’m not delicate, just get over here and fucking hug me.” Gerard did as Frank requested, gently wrapping an arm around his shoulders as Frank coiled an arm around Gerard’s neck, roughly pulling him so that they were chest to chest. It was a little awkward as Frank’s hoisted up leg was in the way, making the angle difficult, but Gerard was in no position to be complaining about that. Besides, he was just thankful for the contact. It had been a while since he’d inhaled Frank’s scent or had Frank’s hair tickling his cheek.

"Why'd you do it, Frankie?" Gerard whispered against his ear, his eyes screwed up in a mixture of emotions. "Why'd you do it? I wouldn't have died, you know that." Frank inhaled a deep breath, tightening his hold on Gerard's neck.

"Because, Gee. Doing that wouldn't have fixed anything. It wouldn't have made you feel better, it wouldn't have made things better between _us..._ and you know that. It would have just fucked us all up even more. I thought that maybe I could get you out the way in time. My timings were kind of off..." he trailed off with shaky laughter, his fingers clutching at the hair at the nape of Gerard's neck, as if scared he was just going to bolt. 

He didn’t notice the door reopen at first, only being alerted as someone cleared their throat behind him. He struggled out of Frank's grip, pulling away guiltily, standing and turning to face the door as Ray, Bob and the third one, whose name he hadn’t learnt yet, walked in. He thought that maybe Bob might have stalked over to deliver a punch to Gerard (he looked like he could) for being the reason Frank was stuck in the hospital, and to be honest Gerard would have deserved it, but he didn’t. Instead, much to Gerard’s surprise, he looked very apologetic. They stayed by the door, all three of them, shuffling their feet nervously, seeming unsure of what to do with their hands.

“So,” Bob finally broke the silence, looking up at Gerard. “You’re dead, huh?” Gerard wasn’t sure how to answer that, or even if he was supposed to; it didn’t really sound like a question, so he just looked down at Frank instead.

“I told them.” He nodded, before shying away a little. “Hope you don’t mind…”

“I’m more surprised over the fact that you got them to believe you.” Gerard managed to quirk his mouth up a little, recalling of how far he’d had to go to convince Frank.

“Actually, now that you’re here, I think there’s a scalpel over there, would you mind doing the honours?” Frank joked, grinning, and Gerard just grinned right back, softly bumping his hip on Frank’s shoulder, and in that moment Gerard thought that they might be okay, that after all the fucked up things he’d done, all the stupid things they’d argued about, they were pretty close to getting back to how they were before. Maybe.

“I know that…” Bob began, running a hand through his short blonde hair. “I know that it probably means nothing to you now…or definitely not mean anything, but…I’m sorry. I really am, we all are. If I could go back in time and change what I did, I would, believe me I would…and…I’m really, _really_ sorry.”

Gerard could’ve done a lot of things in that moment. He could’ve yelled and screamed at them, at Bob, that his apology meant nothing, that he actually couldn’t go back in time and that none of what he said could actually change the fact that Gerard was _dead._ But he didn’t do any of that. Instead he did something he should’ve done a long while back.

“I’ll learn to accept it.” He was never going to be able to forgive them for what they’d done, not really, but he could learn to move on from it. It would be hard because, hell, he was still fucking mad over it, they had killed him after all. But this was much better than spending however many years clouded by hatred and thoughts of revenge. If he forgot about all that then he could begin to enjoy whatever he was living through (or not living) now.

Finally, he was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PENULTIMATE CHAPTER *insert suspense music here*


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV in this alternates between Frank and Gerard and is indicated with '***'
> 
> '*' indicates just later on in the chapter, not a changing POV
> 
> '~~~~' indicates a long passing of time, just under a year in this chapter

“Come on! Hurry up!” Frank urged, the knee of his good leg bouncing up and down excitedly.

“It’s an old VCR and an old tape, I’m going as fast as I can without blowing the whole system up.” Gerard argued, all in good nature, waving the case holding the _Dawn of the Dead_ tape for emphasis. After what felt like much too long, Gerard managed to set it up correctly, inserting the video before going to join Frank on the couch.

“It’s not gonna blow up.” Frank sighed, rolling his eyes.

It had been a few weeks since the accident, Frank’s leg still plastered up, and Gerard was kind enough to let him rest it over his lap while they watched the movie. The cast was due to be removed next week, and even though it had gotten him out of 12 gym lessons altogether, Frank couldn’t wait for it to go as it meant he finally got to stop using the kitchen cutlery as scratching devices, not to mention being able to move on his own without the use of crutches. God, he hated those things. They just drew attention to him and made him look weak and vulnerable. He’d tried to get away with not using them, declaring he could do just fine, but his mom wasn’t having any of it, saying that if Frank didn’t agree to use the crutches then the next alternative was a wheelchair that she’d happily push him around in. So the crutches it was.

Frank’s parents had been a lot more parent like since the whole ordeal too. They were home much more, always worried about where he was during late hours and had actually began to take an interest in things Frank liked doing.

They’d eventually had to meet Gerard too, seeing as he was over his house so much, practically waiting on Frank hand and foot while his leg was in the cast. Luckily for the both of them, neither of them recognised Gerard, as Frank was pretty sure that they’d never met him before. They’d ended up becoming rather fond of Gerard, especially his mom, excluding when his dad sometimes had a habit of constantly questioning Gerard on whether art was a sustainable career for the future, but other than that everything was fine. Better than fine actually. And besides, Gerard didn’t have to worry about a sustainable career, for obvious reasons, which was a little sad but Gerard never mentioned anything about it. Frank didn’t think he liked to. 

“For such a small person you take up so much space.” Gerard moaned, poking at Frank’s side.

“So you’re joking about me being short now?” Frank raised a brow, pulling his attention away from the opening credits appearing on the screen.

“It’s not a joke, you _are short._ ” Gerard laughed and Frank began jamming his knee in Gerard’s side. “Hey! Ow, motherfucker, _ow!_ Cut it out!” Gerard slid down so that Frank could no longer fix his knee into his stomach, ending up lying with his front pressed against Frank’s side. “Fucking bony too.” He mumbled, prodding Frank’s hipbone, but Gerard held a smile with the words, letting the playfulness of his tone take away any venom that was behind them.

“You don’t like it? Then move.” Frank threatened back, just as light-heartedly.

“Not even if the zombie apocalypse broke out right now, starting with you.”

“Dude, how and where would I have even picked up the infection? Actually, forget that, you’d be the more likely one to become a zombie, you’re already practically half way there.” He didn’t even think about the words before he’d said them, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth in horror, but Gerard didn’t seem to mind.

“If I was the zombie then there would be no point in me sticking around here, I’d fucking starve to death.” Frank elbowed him in the side again at the lack of brain comment, but smiled, chewing on his lip, happy that Gerard hadn't taken any offence to the comment.

“I can’t really see you as a zombie anyway…I could see you as a Carrie though, all melodramatic and shit, slaughtering people at your school prom, did you even go to your prom?”

“Fucking _Carrie?_ I take that as a serious insult, Jesus, and no, I vowed to never go to any of that sort of thing again after suffering through homecoming in my Junior year.”

“That bad huh?”

“Fucking awful.”

“And here I was thinking you were voted homecoming king.” Frank joked, but was pretty much prepared to eat his words at what Gerard said next. Never in a million years would he have been able to guess what Gerard was about to reveal.

“Well…try homecoming _queen_.” And there was no way that Frank was going to be able to hold in his laughter at that. He almost began choking, clutching his stomach, borderline hysterics, his eyes actually watering.

“Oh my God, are you serious?” Gerard just grimaced and nodded. “ _Shit_ …What did you _do?_ ”

“What the fuck do you think I did? I fucking went up and received that stupid crown, which is _plastic_ by the way,” And then Gerard had to pause while Frank burst out into another laughing fit, just the thought of Gerard in a tacky princess crown doing it. “It was the biggest achievement I’d ever made in the social aspects of my high school life, granted it was a joke at my sexuality and that fact that I wore makeup, but hell I was going to enjoy it…or pretend to anyway. It pissed off a load of people, mainly the girls, but I figured that the assholes that pulled the prank wouldn’t be so happy if they thought I was enjoying the whole ordeal. And I was right.”

“Jeez...” Frank wheezed out between giggles, “And I thought I’d been getting it bad recently.”

“It’s even worse when your little brother remembered to bring his camera.” Gerard cringed at the memory, sinking back into the couch a little. “But then I sorta forgave him because he managed to make out with one of the asshole’s who did it’s girlfriend.”

“ _What?_ We’re talking about the same Mikeyway, right? Skinny, wears his glasses on the end of his nose, prefers to communicate through eyebrow movement rather than use of actual words?”

“Yep. He’s just got a charm about him.”

“Yeah? Must be a genetic thing then.” He hummed slyly, snuggling back into Gerard’s embrace. “You know…you know I love you, Gee, right?” And Gerard grinned down at him, his eyes bright.

“And you know I love you, Frankie, right?”

 

~~~~

 

“Did you get it?” Gerard asked excitedly, looking up from his sketchbook and grinning as Frank walked into the building.

“Yeah! Want to see?”

“Of course I do!” But Frank hadn’t even waited for an answer before he was pulling his shirt off over his head as carefully and quickly as possible, lowering the bandage, turning so that his back was to Gerard. Gerard placed his sketchbook to the side, standing up and running over to Frank to marvel at his new tattoo.

“Wow, Frankie…it looks…amazing.” Gerard breathed, having to hold himself back from tracing the fresh ink with his fingertips. The skin was still raw and red seeing as Frank had only gotten it done, an hour ago at the most, and Gerard attentively ran his fingers along the outlines of the image that was now permanently on Frank’s skin.

“Well it should do, you drew it.” Frank turned his head towards Gerard, fucking _beaming_. Frank had always wanted a tattoo and had been planning to get his first one on his 18 th birthday for months, knowing exactly what he wanted too. And Gerard had been more than happy to draw it for him when he’d asked, really thrilled actually. He’d spent weeks on the drawing, wanting to make sure it was as close to perfect as he could get. If Frank was going to have to wear it on his skin permanently then Gerard didn’t want to fuck it up.

And now he was staring at the Jack-o'-lantern situated in the middle of Frank’s back, in between his shoulder blades, it’s smile haunting and even better than what Gerard had imagined.

“Did it hurt?” Gerard asked, finally pulling his hand away and arranging the bandage back neatly for Frank.

“Of course it did, it was a needle in my back for 4 and half hours.” Frank rolled his eyes, shrugging on his t-shirt back over his head. Gerard couldn’t help but flinch at the mention of needles. He would’ve gone with Frank to get his first tattoo, he would’ve sat right beside him watching, assuring Frank that it was looking great as the tattoo artist worked on his back. He would have done all that if it weren’t for the fact that needles were a big part of getting a tattoo. He’d told Frank this, and thankfully Frank had been completely understanding (but Gerard guessed he’d kinda had to be with his extremely strong arachnophobia) and hadn’t minded at all as long as Gerard was the first he could show it to once it was finished.

“It’s fucking awesome!” Gerard exclaimed again because even he can’t get over how well it turned out.

“Thanks again for drawing it.” Frank grinned, pulling at the lapels of Gerard’s blazer to bring him stumbling forward a couple of steps so that they were pressed together. “I so owe you for it.” Gerard rolled his eyes because it was Frank’s _birthday_ , so of course he didn’t owe Gerard anything, and even if it wasn’t his birthday Gerard would’ve done it, but even so he smiles knowingly at Frank, bringing their lips closer together so that they were inhaling each other’s breath.

“Let me draw what you want again the next time you go to get inked and we’ll call it even.” He whispers, because he knows, fucking _knows_ , that Frank is going to get a dozen more tattoos.

“Best boyfriend ever.” Frank grinned before closing the space between them and taking Gerard’s bottom lip between his own.

“Cease the R-rated content! We’ve brought our costumes!” Bob shouted out from the entrance of the building, alerting of their arrival.

“And pizza!” Pete added, bounding up towards Gerard and Frank, setting down the several pizza boxes, a goofy grin on his face. “Tonight is going to be epic!” he bobbed excitedly wrapping an arm around Gerard and Frank’s shoulders, giving them each a peck on the cheek before delving into the pizza boxes he’d just put down. “Oh, oh!” He flapped his hands about frantically, trying not to let the half chewed food fall out of his mouth at the same time. “Tattoo! Tattoo! You got it today right? Show me! Show me! Come on!” Frank didn’t need to be told twice and was yanking down his t-shirt so that everyone could see. There was a widespread sound of approval and awe.

“What are you two going as?” Bob quizzed them, dropping the bags he’d been carrying full of clothing and makeup for his own costume (and presumably Pete and Ray’s too).

It had been weird at first, Gerard hanging around with all of them after everything that had happened in the past, but they were still Frank’s friends, and they were _nice_ people. Gerard hadn’t forgiven them, no way, he definitely wasn’t going to either, and they knew this. He was still angry with them, but he didn’t let that anger control him anymore. He let himself laugh at the jokes they made and join in on their inane conversations about smooth peanut butter vs. crunchy peanut butter, he let himself have _fun_ with them, because he really did know that they were truly sorry and he’d learnt to understand that they weren’t actually bad people.

“We wanted to do, like, a duo thing,” Frank began, grabbing two slices of pizza, a veggie and a pepperoni, and passing the pepperoni over to Gerard. “But aside from the obvious ones, like Batman themed, most of the duos that would be recognisable by costume were a male and a female; Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett, Jack and Sally, Gomez and Morticia, Frankenstein and his _bride_ –“

“Ripley and Alien.” Gerard pitched in around a mouthful of dough.

“Aw dude! That would’ve been a good one!” Frank chewed on his lip, possibly thinking about how awesome they would’ve looked, Gerard thought.

“Yeah, but the costume for Alien might have been difficult to do anyway.” Gerard reasoned, nodding to himself.

“What about Peter and Paul?” Ray asked, helping himself to the food.

“From _Funny Games_? Come on, we want good films.” Frank wrinkled up his nose at the thought. “We thought Clockwork Orange but neither of us felt comfortable wearing those tight underwear suspender things.” He took another bite of his pizza, swallowing hungrily before continuing. “Anyway, seeing as we couldn’t agree on who would be who in those horror movie duos, we decided to go as The Grady Twins.” Ray almost choked on his food and Bob just stared wide-eyed at the two on them in bewilderment. Pete, however, looked up at them both, grinning wildly.

“ _Awesome._ ” Pete nodded eagerly, clearly loving the idea.

“From _The Shining_?” Frank made a ‘well duh’ face as Bob asked the question.

“Gerard thought of it.” Frank shrugged and Gerard looked up from his food, grinning proudly as if he’d managed to completely understand the concept of time travel or something just as spectacular. He and Frank had been thinking up ideas for weeks. Gerard had really had his mind set on Beetlejuice, mainly for the black and white pinstripe suit, but Frank was determined to stick with the duo idea. Being the persistent fucker he was, Frank won over.

“All the good male duos don’t really have costumes. This way, we don’t have that problem, or the problem of choosing which character to be seeing as we’ll both look the same.” Gerard filled them in on his purpose of his decision. “Besides, who doesn’t love The Grady Twins? Creepy as hell.”

“So you two…are gonna be in dresses?” Bob folded his lips together, trying to hold back his laughter. “I’m going to take pictures and taunt you with them forever.”

“Hey! I look good in a dress. I’ve got the legs for it.” Gerard joked, stretching out his left leg as high as it would go for emphasis, eliciting a laugh from all four of them. “What about you guys, what did you decide?”

“Baron Samedi.” Ray announced, Gerard ‘oohing’ in approval.

“Hannibal Lecter.” Bob smiled, pulling out the mask to show.

“Vampire.” Pete said at last, and Frank groaned.

“Again? This is three years in a row now.” Frank looked down at Pete with a slightly chagrined look.

“What? I like it, I look good as a vampire.”

“Vampires are pretty cool.” Gerard agreed, more as a thought to himself.

“See?” Pete justified.

As Bob, Ray and Pete began to get their costumes sorted, Gerard sat down with his back against the wall, pulling his sketchbook into his lap. It wasn’t long before Frank joined him, sitting beside him and hitching a knee up to rest his arm on.

“So,” Frank began, placing a hand on Gerard’s thigh to keep his attention. “Guess who I saw today on my way to the tattoo parlour?” His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted the other guys to hear him or not.

“Who?” Gerard asked, his response to the type of question automatic, mindlessly thumbing the edges of his sketchbook.

“Mikey.” That got Gerard’s full attention then. His hands went limp against his sketchbook and he turned his head to meet Frank’s, his eyes wide, nonplussed. “I guess he’s back in town, or here for a visit or something, I don’t know, I didn't stop him to talk or anything.” Gerard wasn’t sure what to say. His brother was in town, for how long he wasn’t sure, which meant that if Gerard went outside then they could bump into each other at any time. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “You could go and see him, Gee.” Frank suggested quietly, resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder.

“I don’t know…he might freak out over it. Grieving over your brother’s death and then meeting him on the street four years later…I just don’t think that’d be fair to him, you know?”

“Yeah.” Frank sighed softly, rubbing his cheek on Gerard’s shoulder. “You’ve got time, you know, to decide. You can change your mind.” Gerard _did_ miss his brother, so much, and he _did_ want to see him, really badly, but he _didn’t_ want to screw his brother up. He had no idea what Mikey’s life was like now. He didn’t want to wreck it. “I could always talk to him first, to see how he’s doing.” Frank offered as if having read Gerard’s last thoughts. “I can see if he’s doing really well or not for you, you know, if you wanted.” He took Frank’s hand, interlacing their fingers and stroking small circles with his thumb on the back of Frank’s hand.

“I’ll think about it.” He smiled, planting an almost chastely kiss on the top of Frank’s head. “I will.”

Maybe one day he would say hi to his brother again, see his small but meaningful smile, be on the receiving end of his famous eye roll. Maybe he’d be able to experience all that again one day, but not now. Not yet. Right now he was happy where he was, with who he was with. At some point Frank was going to have to move on with his life and leave Gerard behind, but Gerard was hoping that by that time he’d be okay with it, because, really, all he needed was the right now. Right now, Gerard couldn’t even think about being without Frank, but when the time did come, he was hoping he’d be able to let him go when he needed to.

“Right, costume time motherfucker!” Frank grinned, slapping Gerard’s thigh happily and standing up, holding out his hand for Gerard. “It’s Halloween! Best time of the year, and not just because I’m the birthday boy today.” He winked, his grin getting even bigger, if that was possible.

Yeah, all he needed was the right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD IT'S OVER *sobs*
> 
> So I've finally finished it, and it was really fun to write. I just want to thank you guys for all your positive comments, they're all really nice and you are all awesome.
> 
> I certainly hope this is not my only Frerard fan fiction I write, I've had too much fun to just stop here, so possibly be expecting more, I don't know
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading it! Stay rad :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll try to update regularly and to be honest I don't really know how long it's gonna be but yeah.
> 
> Sorry if it jumps too fast from one point to the next, I'm trying to work on that


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